


I'm a teenager. I've got problems

by Hagzissa



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Normal High School, Bi!Dean, Cas lives with college student Gabe, Castiel & Sam Winchester Friendship, Charlie Bradbury & Dean Winchester Friendship, Charlie Ships Castiel/Dean Winchester, F/F, F/M, Gabe is filming a porno, Gay Panic, Gay!Castiel, M/M, Mentions of homophobia, Pining, Sam is in love with Ruby, Truth or Dare, popcultural references
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-22
Updated: 2015-02-23
Packaged: 2018-03-14 15:19:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 35,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3415622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hagzissa/pseuds/Hagzissa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean is on an emotional roller coaster. School is not working out for him, his ex-girlfriend is pregnant and he's got a stepmom that he doesn't want. When his little brother befriends Castiel, the new kid and cousin of infamous troublemaker Luc, he thinks he's got another thing to worry about. Cas turns out to be quite different than he expected, but it doesn't mean that it all becomes easier. (Dean is 18, Cas is 16)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Three girls and a moose

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone, this is a nice little High School Au I wrote about a year ago. I'm crossposting it from ff.net. The title is a rather unimportant quote from "The Virgin Suicides".  
> It'll contain some mature language. I should also say that I'm not from the US so I have no idea what High School is really like. I'm not even a native-speaker, so there could be a few mistakes. Hope you like it :D

“Dean, I’m just trying to help you!”

“I told ya, I’m fine,” Dean replied, his arms crossed.

“That brawl with Mr. Crowley was just the tip of the iceberg. You’ve got some solid anger management issues here.”

Miss Banks looked at him from over her eighties reading glasses. She was a woman of about fifty years, with gray hair and a cardigan of a similar color. She looked oddly colorless sitting behind her desk brimming over with garishly colorful pamphlets. _Planned Parenthood – It’s your choice!_ it said on a lilac one and _Am I pregnant?_ on another. Dean quickly looked the other way. He didn’t want to think about it.

“Can I go?” he asked impatiently.

“You may,” she answered, “But remember: not talking about your problems won’t help solving them.”

Dean grabbed his backpack and hurried to the door, slamming it behind him. He sighed. Finally out!

Charlie, who had been waiting for him, got up from a chair outside of the counselor’s office. They walked in silence through the empty corridors. It was just when they reached the exit that Charlie started talking.

“You have to keep your temper under control,” she stated, “or you’ll get expelled.”

“Don’t get preachy, Hermione. I had enough of _that_ back in there.”

Charlie tutted, but didn’t argue. Instead she asked: “Did you speak with Lisa today? Did you finally ask her?”

Dean wasn’t happy about the change of subject.

“No, I didn’t. Why do I have to ask her anyway?! Shouldn’t she tell _me_?”

“Maybe it is not yours.”

“Yeah, but maybe it _is_. You girls are fucking lucky, you know that? You always know what’s up.”

Charlie chuckled. They had reached the parking lot. Sam waited in front of the car.

“Where have you been?!” Sam questioned accusingly.

“You brother has been making trouble again,” Charlie declared.

“Dean?!”

“Shut up, it’s none of your damn business.”

Dean slipped behind the steering wheel of his Chevy Impala, Charlie on the seat next to him.

“Why do I _always_ have to sit in the back?” Sam whined, as soon as they had set off.

“Because you’re a kid, Sam. If that isn’t convenient for you, you may as well walk.”

Sam rolled his eyes.

* * *

 

Dean and Charlie spent the afternoon playing videogames on the crappy TV set in the living room. Sam was upstairs doing his homework, frequently rumbling down the steps to tell them to tune down the sound.

At five o’clock the doorbell rang. Charlie craned her neck to peek out of the window.

“It’s Jo,” she announced.

“Oh, crap,” Dean said.

It rang again.

“Just go,” Charlie pressed.

Dean gave her a pleading look. She pulled him up and dragged him toward the door.

“I’m gonna kill you,” Dean whispered before opening the door.

It was indeed Jo, wearing a tank top due to the warm temperatures as well as a wide smile.

“Hi,” she said.

“Hi, Jo,” Dean and Charlie answered in unison.

At the sight of Charlie Jo’s smile faded away. She looked slightly disappointed.

“I didn’t know you had someone over,” she said, biting her lip.

“Yeah, well, I do,” Dean answered rather harshly.

“I was just wondering… Ash and the guys are meeting up at the Ruins tonight. Are you coming, too?”

“I don’t know. Maybe.”

“Okay,” Jo replied, turning around, “Then see you later, maybe.”

Dean watched her walk through their messy front yard. The rusty gate squeaked as she closed it behind her. She had the dignity not to look back.

When they retreated inside, Sam’s voice was heard from above.

“Who was it?”

“Just Jo,” Dean answered.

“I still don’t get why you’re not into her,” Charlie mused.

“Because I know her ever since I can remember, that’s why. And maybe because I don’t want to have another Lisa?”

“That didn’t stop you from making out with Anna,” Charlie said over the roars of her virtual bear companion.

“That was before I knew – well, before I thought – anywayit was just the one time.”

“You couldn’t resist her angelic smile then, or what?”

“Get a love life of your own, will ya?”

“Yeah, maybe I’ll court Jo. _I_ think she’s cute.”

* * *

 

Dean did go to the meet-up that night. He was not sure why he went exactly, probably to distract himself from his thoughts about Lisa.

The Ruins that Jo had mentioned were nothing more than a few walls left from a house that had been torn down. It was located near to a small wood and a lake. Dean, his brother, Jo and Ash had spent many afternoons exploring the area when they were kids.

Dean was walking. It was not far from their little, shabby house. He passed Bobby Singer’s Salvage Yard where his father John worked. Bobby and John were friends. When Dean’s mother had died in a fire, they had moved to this town and Bobby had offered him the job. He knew how John felt, having lost his wife to cancer a long time ago.

Bobby had babysat the two brothers from time to time and so had Ellen, Jo’s mom, who owned a bar just two blocks away.

Jo. Yes, Dean liked her. He even thought she was pretty; still his feelings for her were of a brotherly nature. Perhaps they knew each other too well. He valued her as a friend.  Her obvious crush on him made things so difficult. Couldn’t they just be pals? But no, breaking up with Lisa had raised her hopes – that had been five months ago, around Christmas.

Lisa and Dean had been together for three and a half months. That was quite a long time for Dean’s standards. The only relationship that had lasted longer than that had been the one with Cassie in middle school, but the only thing they had ever done was awkwardly holding hands in the movie theater. Dean liked to flirt, to make out, sure, but having a relationship? That took courage and commitment and he sometimes lacked both.

That was also why Lisa had ended their relationship – he was too eaten up in his own problems than to be an attentive boyfriend. Since then they hadn’t talked much. They didn’t have many classes together this term, so he didn’t have to encounter her very often.

That was why he had noticed the alteration in her appearance quite late. Her shirts had become tighter and she was wearing sweat pants _a lot_ more often. Now there was no denying: Lisa was pregnant. And they had been having sex. Dean was a hundred percent sure that they had always used a condom, but he knew from sex ed that there was still a slight chance of a pregnancy left. Were they a part of the unlucky few? Dean didn’t want to be tied to a high school ex for his entire life. And most of all he was sure as hell not ready to be a father.

* * *

 

Before Dean arrived at the Ruins, he could hear chatter and laughter from afar. It was only 9pm and the sun hadn’t set yet, still twilight casted a gray light over the tree tops. Someone had ignited a little campfire. Huddled around the dancing flames was a group of about a dozen people. He could make out Jo and Ash who waved when he spotted Dean.

“Hey, man, how are you?” Dean greeted him.

The patted each other’s backs.

“I’m great,” Ash said, inviting him to sit with a gesture. “I got discount on the booze,” he announced triumphantly.

Ash was three years older than Dean. His grades had been even worse than the Winchester’s.  He was now working in a supermarket in the neighborhood when he was not tinkering with old computers.

Dean took a canned beer and looked around. There were only few people he knew. Jo was talking to Garth, a nervous boy from her school, and he sighted some jocks from his school. The other kids were probably from Jo’s school, too, or had graduated already.

After an hour, two beers and some respectable gulps from a juice carton containing a sweet mixture of whatever, Dean was primed. He had discovered that the guy on his left, a twenty-ish man with shaggy white-blonde hair, had a similar taste in music. He was stoned, so their conversation wasn’t exactly elaborate. It consisted mainly of “You know that one song…?” “Yeah, that’s awesome.” After another hour, the two of them performed a heartfelt rendition of _Lynyrd Skynyrd_ ’s greatest. It was afterward that Jo came to sit next to him. He beamed at her.

“Jo!” he called more cheerful than he would have if he had been sober.

It had become chill and the campfire’s heat couldn’t prevent Dean from shivering slightly. He was, after all, only wearing his leather jacket. It was this and his intoxication that made him not stress when Jo nuzzled up to him, placing her arms around his hips. Her head was on his shoulder, her blonde hair tickling his cheek.

* * *

 

It was some time around midnight when Luc turned up. Luc went to Dean’s school. He was a junior and feared by teachers. He had gotten suspended for a week last term for setting the school’s bins on fire. Dean had had detention together with him more than once. There was something about him that Dean didn’t like. He didn’t know what it was. But one thing he knew for sure: Luc meant trouble. A lot of people also said that about Dean, but at least he had never attempted scissoring the head cheerleader’s hair during lunch.

Luc had brought a ghetto blaster blaring techno through the night and spray paint, apparently.

Jo stirred next to Dean.

“I think I’m going home,” she declared at the sight of Luc.

“I walk you home,” Dean said in a sudden outburst of chivalry.

“No, Dean, _I_ walk _you_ home. You’re drunk.”

And sure enough, Jo had to drag him up. He swayed slightly. Jo linked arms with him and together they set off. They took the shortcut through the wood. It was field-black. Still they knew the way and the only thing happening to them was a branch brushing their arms occasionally. They walked in silence until they reached the road.

“So it’s you and Charlie now, is it?” Jo asked, kicking a _McDonald’s_ cup with her feet.

“What?”

“She’s your girlfriend?”

Dean jerked to a halt. Jo let go of his arm. They were now facing each other. Dean giggled. He and Charlie… _seriously_ …

“What’s so funny about that?!” Jo questioned.

She looked angry for not being taken seriously.

“Nothing’s. No. Not funny,” Dean said in a dead serious voice, “We’re not. Charlie. Girlfriend. Ha.”

He burst out laughing again. Jo sighed and linked their arms again. It seemed that she had accepted that there was no reasonable answer to be expected from Dean.

* * *

 

The Winchesters’ house was surrounded by a small yard with unmown grass. A rusty swing-set which had been acquired for Sam’s fourth birthday stood next to the door. There was no light behind the windows. Sam had gone to bed and his father hadn’t come home yet. He was on date night with Kate. Dean checked his watch. It was 2am. John had told him he would be home at three, tops, and that he expected him to be home by then, too.

Dean and Jo sat down on the squeaking swings. Jo dug her shoes into the sandy spot beneath her. Dean was slightly rocking back and forward.

“Jo?”

“Hem-hem.”

“You know I like you and all,” he began, not sure how to proceed, “but – I know it’s the crappiest thing to say – you’re like my sister, you know.”

“Yeah, I know,” Jo replied with a sigh.

She squeezed his hand before standing up.

“You be careful,” he called after her.

“I know self-defense, Dean!”


	2. Caftel Nofuck

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> While I was writing this I listened to Lorde's "Team" on repeat. I don't know whether that had any influence on the story, but hey.

Castiel watched his parents return to the car through the window. Although he couldn’t hear what they were saying, he could tell from their movements that they were fighting again. Castiel’s mom had been crying when she had kissed his cheeks as a farewell gesture.

“It’s not like you’ll never see him again,” his father had said, “He’ll be fine, won’t you, son?” Castiel had mumbled his agreement.

“What did you say? I can’t hear you!” he had said in an annoying singsong voice.

“Yes, sir,” Castiel had repeated, his voice full of dislike.

His mother had given him a last hug and they had left him on the doorstep of a degenerated apartment house on Main Street. His brother had helped him carry his luggage upstairs. It consisted of two suitcases, a backpack and two plastic bags. Almost everything he possessed was crammed into them, including his clothes, his books and his laptop.

His brother Gabriel’s apartment was located on the third floor. It consisted of a reasonably large living room with a kitchen included, a small bathroom, a bedroom and a storage room. The room had barely enough space to fit a mattress in it. There was no wardrobe, but a few shelves and a tiny mirror. This was Castiel’s new home.

“I’m sorry, Cassie,” Gabriel declared when he showed Castiel his new room, “When I moved in I didn’t imagine you would join me.”

“Yeah,” Castiel replied.

“At least you’re not claustrophobic.”

Castiel grinned weakly.

“When you got someone coming over you can have the living room,” Gabriel said, clapping his brother on the back, “As long as you clean up _the mess_ afterward, you know?”

He winked.

“Gabe, would you give me a moment? I’m just really tired. We’ve been driving for, like, three hours.”

Gabriel nodded and thankfully left him alone. Castiel took off his _Chuck Taylors_ and dropped onto the sheets. He stared at the white ceiling, a naked bulb dangling from it. So this was it. His home. For at least half a year, until his parents had sorted out their divorce. New town, new school, new everything.

Going into exile had been his idea, but he still wasn’t sure whether or not it had been a good one. He and Gabriel were the exact opposite of each other – Castiel was introvert and grave, whereas Gabriel was rather extrovert and giddy. He was seven years older than Castiel and went to college. They had family in this town. His father’s siblings and their kids lived here. Castiel had spent the first six years of his life here, too. Then they had moved into a bigger city because of his father’s promotion.

And now their parents were getting in divorce. Dropping him off at Gabriel’s had been their last collective act. They had tried their best not to fight during the journey; still the atmosphere had been tense. He had had his earphones plugged in all the time. His mother had been sitting next to him in the back of the car. She had tried to read in a novel, but most of the time she had gazed out of the window. Not that there was much to see. Mostly fields, occasionally a small town. Three motels, a diner and a gas station.

Castiel had expected that he’d recognize parts of the city, but nothing looked familiar. He knew that he had cried when they had moved. He hadn’t wanted to leave his kindergarten friends behind.

He had no such feelings now. It had been the first term of his sophomore year in high school. He hadn’t managed to make any friends. Ever since puberty, Castiel had been rather quiet. School had always come easy to him. Grade A student. Teachers _adored_ him. But being a teacher’s pet is not really that cool when you’re sixteen. When you’re sixteen you’re supposed to socialize, to go on dates, to party, to get drunk for the first time, to retch onto the expensive carpet in your friend’s house… Or to have make-out sessions with a cute girl against the lockers until a strict teacher comes round the corner to tell you off for it.

The thing was, Castiel didn’t want to have make-out sessions with a cute girl. As far as he could tell, he preferred boys - he lacked experience, but all his crushes so far had been male. But being _out and proud_ of being gay was kind of difficult if you were not able to be _out and proud_ of being a person, either.

 

* * *

On Monday morning, Gabriel drove him to school. They were late. Gabriel still had to adjust to not living alone. They needed to figure out a bath use schedule. Gabriel had needed ages to shower.

They were sitting in his rusty old car. Castiel had his schoolbag on his lap. Whenever he moved his feet, he could hear sweet wrappers rustling.

It took some time to find an unoccupied parking space. Tomorrow he’d take the school bus that stopped not far from their apartment.

He’d been exploring the whole weekend. Gabriel had shown him his campus and taken him to his favorite eatery for a burger. Castiel liked the neighborhood. The paint was flaking off the walls and there were some empty stores, but it was this seeming ugliness that he found so appealing. He couldn’t stand the fake cleanliness of his old environment. It felt as if there was no one living there.

Castiel was grateful that the corridors were empty. He liked to get to know the place first before having to fight his way through the crowds. A secretary led them to the principal’s office. Mr. Schubert was a man of sixty years with a white mustache and not much hair on his head. He looked like a nice grandpa, someone who was totally unable to cope with today’s youth’s gadgets such as iPods and cell phones and nose piercings.

“Ah, Mr. Novak, is it?” he greeted him.

Castiel nodded and they shook hands. They both sat down. Gabriel produced a lollipop from his pocket and started to unwrap it.

They talked about the formalities. He got a piece of paper informing him about his locker combination (8954) and another one containing the school rules.

“Janice is going to show you around and take you to your first class,” he announced finally.

When they left the office, Gabriel patted him on the shoulder.

“See ya later, bro.”

Janice, the secretary, showed him his locker. It was close to the cafeteria.

“The restroom’s that way and here is your first class. The room numbers are noted on the timetable Mr. Schubert handed you out.”

She knocked at a wooden classroom door with a brazen plate saying _HISTORY Ms Raphael_ on it.

“Come in,” a stern woman’s voice sounded from within.

Janice gently shoved him inside.

“This is your new student, Michelle,” she informed the teacher.

Miss Raphael nodded. She was an African American woman wearing a navy blue suit and a white dress shirt. There was a pointer in her left hand, a map of the United States behind her.

She gestured him to step in front of the class. The students sat in rows. It was not like in the movies where everyone was staring at the new kid. Sure, some had looked up in curiosity, but as it was still first period, many people were sitting with their head on their arms, nearly asleep; a girl in the back was reading a book with a dull grin on her face and another one was staring out of the window.

“What’s your name?” Miss Raphael asked.

“Castiel,” Castiel said and cleared his throat, “Castiel Novak.”

God, he hated telling people his name. Why couldn’t his parents give him an ordinary name like Kevin or Jason? Even Gabriel was a better name!

“Why don’t you sit down next to Sam?”

Sam gave him an encouraging smile. He sat front row on the left, close to the windows. Castiel sat down, fumbling with the zipper of his backpack. Miss Raphael continued her lecture. He got out his pencil-case and a note pad. Sam, who had occupied most of their double table’s space with his books and folders and notes, hastily made space for him. Castiel glanced at the boy’s tidy writing.

“Civil War?” Castiel said with a groan.

“Yeah,” Sam confirmed, “For the thousandth time.”

“Exactly.”

They smiled at each other.

* * *

 

Sam walked him to his next class, English, which again they had together. Sam didn’t force him to talk. He seemed content with silently accompanying him, occasionally remarking on things like “Oh, if I were you I wouldn’t use the third cubicle. The water switch is not working.”

Castiel had been surprised about Sam’s height when he had stood up after Miss Raphael had ended her lesson. Castiel wasn’t short himself, but Sam was huge. Still, you could tell he was quite young from his face. With his haircut he looked a bit like Luke Skywalker. Castiel had noticed that whenever he was concentrating, he run his fingers through his hair.

In front of the classroom door they were joined by a tiny girl with straight blonde hair, a note-pad and a pen with a pink feather at the tip pressed to her chest.

“Hi, Sam!” she exclaimed happily, “Guess what?”

“What?” Sam replied, sounding rather annoyed.

“I’ve got a story for _Colt_!”

“It’s not about _Supernatural_ again, is it?”

She averted her eyes, slightly ashamed.

“I’ll tell you during lunch,” she announced when they entered the classroom.

“ _Colt_ is our school magazine,” Sam told him, “If you want to join just ask Chuck. We could need an additional writer.”

* * *

 

After English and two other periods it was lunchtime. Castiel went to his locker to store his new text books in it. It was just then, when a familiar voice called his name.

He turned around to see who it was.

It was Michael, his cousin. They hadn’t seen each other for quite a long time. Not since… yeah, not since Christmas two years back. He hadn’t changed much. He still wore his dark hair combed neatly and a plain emerald sweater revealing a white dress shirt’s collar.

“Hi, Michael.”

“Mom told me you’d moved in with Gabriel,” Michael said while they walked to the cafeteria together. “She said you should come for dinner.”

Castiel nodded.

The cafeteria was a noisy place. There were two long tables with benches. The food was served opposite the doors. They lined up.

“How are you?” Michael asked.

“Okay, I guess,” Castiel answered.

What else was he supposed to say? He and Michael had never been friends exactly. He was a senior, a good student like himself, but also a bit smug. He was so different to his little brother Luc. Castiel looked around whether he could see his other cousin anywhere, but he couldn’t.

Instead he spotted Sam who sat with a group of friends, including the girl from the school magazine.

“You can sit with us,” Michael said, probably thinking he was being generous, as they had their trays laden with something that was labeled as lasagna.

He pointed toward a group of boys at one end of the table. Some of them greeted Michael when they sat down. Michael was asking him all kinds of questions about his first lessons, their car journey and about his future. Castiel wondered how someone else could be so curious about things he had barely thought about himself. In fact, Michael talked so much that Castiel was surprised that his plate was emptying at all.

“Would you like to join the Mathletes?” he inquired hopefully.

“Nah,” Castiel replied, “I’m not so into math.”

“It’s a hopeless case, Mike,” the boy sitting opposite of them said, “We won’t find anyone this year. Man, why did Lisa have to leave?!”

Michael sighed.

“We’re one person short for the contest,” he explained, now turning to Castiel, “because that bitch dumped us.”

“Don’t call her that,” Michael scolded him.

“I’m calling her whatever I like. She chose _it_ over us.”

He angrily shoved his tray away from him and pulled out a gaming magazine from his school bag.

“Well, if someone wanted to do _it_ with me, I’d dump y’all, too,” a third boy announced with a snigger.

Michael looked somewhat embarrassed by his friends or whatever they were.

* * *

 

“Who have you been talking to earlier?” Dean asked his brother.

They were sitting at their usual spot as far away from the odorous vapors coming from the kitchen.

“Who do you mean?” Sam asked, checking his sandwich’s filling. “Dude, how many times, I _hate_ tuna!”

“Make your own sandwiches, then,” Dean said, shrugging. “I mean the kid with the dark hair. Haven’t seen him before.”

“Oh, that’s Castiel Novak,” Becky intervened unasked for.

She had taken the seat opposite of Sam, much to his annoyance.  Her crush on him was exhausting and it hurt Chuck, who liked Becky. He was sitting next to her now, but she didn’t pay him attention.

“Caftel Nofuck?” Dean repeated with a full mouth.

“He’s cousins with Michael and Luc Novak,” she informed them, “See, he’s sitting with Michael.”

Dean craned his neck to get a good look on him. He could only see the backs of their heads, identically dark brown.

“He’s nice. I’ve invited him over for next weekend,” Sam announced.

“You what?” Dean said with a shocked look on his face.

“I’ve invited him over?” Sam repeated taken aback.

“Sammy, you’re not befriending Luc fucking Novak’s cousin!” Dean hissed.

“Why not? His brother Michael is okay - ”

“Yeah, he spends his free time on math, that’s not fishy at all.”

“ – and anyway, you can’t judge people by their relatives. I mean, I don’t want people to judge me based upon what they think about you.”

Dean snorted.

“Look, he’s new in town. He doesn’t know anyone. I tried to be nice, that’s all. He seems to be shy, actually.”

“Yeah. Being nice will be your death. That’s probably what it’ll say on your gravestone; _Here rests Sam. He was nice_ ,” Dean snapped and added, “Are you done, Charlie?”

Charlie, who had followed the conversation quietly, nodded and together they set off.

They still had some time left until afternoon classes started. They walked around the school building and sat down on the grass. They weren’t the only ones outside enjoying the sun. It was extraordinarily warm for May. Still, Dean was frowning.

“Are you okay?” Charlie asked.

Dean just shrugged. No, he wasn’t. How was he supposed to be? Lisa probably didn’t tell him he was becoming a father because she was ashamed that he was. Even his own brother was ashamed of him! Perfect little Sammy, with his As and his articles, talking to the new kid. And who was he? A complete failure.

“Are you mad at Sam?” Charlie asked him, as if she had read his mind.

“Yeah,” Dean said.

There was something about Charlie that made him be honest with her at all times. Maybe it was because she would never talk to him again if he didn’t. They had become friends in their freshmen year. They’d both been attending a screening of a _Star Wars_ episode at the small movie theater downtown. Dean had recognized her from P.E. classes and decided to talk to her, as he had felt a little uncomfortable between all the cosplayers.

Charlie had worn a white dress and her hair had been braided just like Leia Organa’s.

“You should talk to Lisa. Soon. Today. Or tomorrow. You have to get over it. I can come with you, if you want.”

“Thanks, Charlie, but that’s definitely something I have to do on my own -”

Charlie opened her mouth to say something, but Dean anticipated her.

“– and no ‘We’re in this together’ _Harry Potter_ crap now, okay? Because we’re not. You’ve got nothing to do with this bullshit.”

“I didn’t say anything!”

“But you were about to.”

“I hate you, Dean Winchester, you know that?” she said with a fond smile that told just the opposite. “Now, come on, up with you or we’ll be late for history.”

* * *

 

Sam obeyed Dean reluctantly and cancelled the appointment with Castiel. He had invited him to come see him play soccer for their school team on Sunday instead. After some consideration, Castiel had said he would come.

Sam was happy. He liked the new kid and was mad at Dean for not at least giving him a chance. It didn’t seem like Dean at all. He was normally a people person. Something was bothering his brother. He was quite certain of it. He was irritable, spent much time shut in his room and was not talking as much as usual. But whenever Sam tried to subtly question him, he got snapped at. He knew that his brother was in a feud with Crowley from his chemistry course, but he was sure Dean could handle that…

 


	3. Bend it like Bigfoot

Castiel met up with Sam at the school gate. He had come by bike.

“Hi,” Sam greeted him.

Their sports ground was located down a by-road. As soccer wasn’t such a big thing, there were not many supporters to be seen walking toward the field. Their audience was usually limited to the players’ families and friends – if there was nothing interesting on TV. When Sam had started playing in middle school, his father had been to all his matches. Now, however, he spent lots of his time with his girlfriend Kate. It meant that he wasn’t spending his time at the Roadhouse drinking, so Sam tolerated her, even if he’d never warmed up to her.

Dean on the other hand really didn’t like Kate. His father never had a serious relationship after their mother’s death all those years ago. They’d never been in this position. To the Winchesters family was sacred. Accepting Kate as a family member would be a huge step and the boys were not ready yet.

John had fixed her car after a car crash. It had been a lucky escape, with only scratches on metal and skin. Sam always cringed at the mention of it. His childhood friend Jess had died in a car crash. It had taken a good portion of persuasiveness from Dean and his father to make Sam learn how to drive. Still, he usually let his brother drive who happily obliged. He _loved_ the car. Sam sometimes joked that Dean’s _baby_ was the only one he was ever going to love.

“So, do _you_ do any sports?” Sam asked while they walked.

“No. Not so much of a jock,” Castiel replied.

“Why? You don’t look like a couch potato to me…”

“I take that as a compliment,” Castiel replied with a chuckle, “Because I am most definitely a couch potato. I mean of course I do lack talent but the main reason why I’ve never joined a team is that I’m not exactly a team player.”

Sam didn’t know what to say to this, so they remained silent until they reached the sports grounds. Castiel locked his bike to a fence.

“Is this an important match?” he wanted to know.

“Not really. I mean, yeah, we’re playing against Flintwood High. That’s one of the other local high schools, so it’s kind of a derby. Maybe there’ll even be an audience. Apart from you, I mean. Thanks for coming by the way. I should’ve warned you probably. It’s not a social event or anything.”

“That’s fine with me. Does your family come as well?” Castiel asked.

“My brother Dean said he might drop by, as soon as he’s woken up,” Sam answered.

“It’s half past one,” Castiel said in disbelief.

“Well, that’s Dean.”

* * *

 

It was two o’clock when Dean was awoken by the shrill sound of the doorbell. He could hear his father walking to the door, each step making the floor boards creak.

Dean turned around, groaning.

“Hello, Mr. Winchester,” he heard Charlie’s muffled voice from below, “Is Dean home?”

“He’s still asleep,” John replied.

“No, I’m not!” Dean groaned, “Not anymore!”

He could hear Charlie laugh and John inviting her in. Charlie rushed up the stairs and stormed into the room.

“Good… morning,” she said grinning.

Dean snorted.

She sat down on the edge of the bed. She was wearing a red _Gryffindor_ shirt and looked terribly awake and enthusiastic.

“What are you doing here?” Dean asked.

“Making sure that you don’t spend your whole weekend jerking off to cartoon porn,” she joked.

“It’s called Anime,” he said, his pillow over his head, muffling his voice, “and it’s an art form.”

She just laughed and then pulled on his sheets.

Dean was bare-chested, only wearing a pair of boxers, but Charlie had seen him like this before. She was a frequent guest at the Winchesters’, having stayed for countless sleepovers. Dean had been quite surprised that his father had allowed it. Lisa had never stayed overnight officially; but when John had slept at Kate’s place, Dean had brought her home. Maybe John felt that Charlie’s and Dean’s relationship was purely platonic, because he couldn’t possibly know that Charlie preferred girls over boys.

Charlie glanced around the room while Dean got dressed and vanished into the bathroom. The walls in Dean’s room were plain white. He had never bothered to repaint them. He and his brother had shared a room when they were younger, but when he turned twelve, Sam had moved out. He’d come over to Dean’s room for a couple nights, though.

Dean had pinned posters of his favorite musicians on the walls. He had bought them at the record store at the mall. He couldn’t afford most of the records there, however, so he stuck with his father’s tape collection, going mental whenever a tape got caught in the cassette deck. There was also a poster displaying the emblem of _Batman_ , his favorite superhero.

In a shelf stood a photo of Dean as a toddler with his mom, a beautiful woman with blonde hair and a genial smile. Next to it stood a large jar with cash money. Charlie knew that Dean put as much aside as possible so that he could one day buy an electric guitar.

“So, what do you want to do?” Dean asked when he came back into the room.

“Don’t know.”

“Sam’s got a match today,” Dean said, “I said I might come.”

“Sounds great.”

* * *

 

After Dean had breakfast they went to school. Dean drove straight past the parking lot down the by-road and parked right beside the entrance to the sports grounds. It was prohibited, but it was a Sunday and nobody _ever_ used that road on a Sunday.

There weren’t many people watching, twenty, tops. There was a group of soccer moms chatting happily, completely ignoring their kids’ play; a little girl hopping on the stone steps and an ambitious dad pacing up and down the pitch’s outline.

Not far from Soccer Moms United sat a boy with ruffled brown hair. He sat cross-legged, a khaki trench coat dangling over the chair-back of the orange plastic seat next to him.

“Isn’t that the Novak kid?” Dean asked Charlie as they sat down, some yards away from an impatient girlfriend checking her watch.

“I guess.”

“What’s he doing here?”

“Probably meeting Sam, as you banned him from your house,” Charlie answered indifferently.

“That bitch!” Dean said.

Charlie rolled her eyes.

When the second half of the game started, no-one had scored, yet. Every player was annoyed. Both coaches were shouting at their teams. The referee, a pimply twenty-something, looked bored. Dean could easily make out Sam between all the other players. He was the tallest, as usual. He was lurking in his team’s half.

After five minutes of play, there finally was some action. One of Sam’s teammates had snatched the ball and darted toward the opposing goal posts. The keeper anxiously hopped on his spot. Sam had run forward and was now level with his teammate. The boy passed the ball to him and Sam, striking out, shot. The ball hurtled toward the goal. The keeper jumped, his fingertips brushing the ball, but it was not enough. The ball hit the net behind him.

“Well done, Winchester!” the coach roared.

Dean and Charlie whooped. “Yeah, Sammy!”

Sam turned around and beamed when he spotted his brother on the bleachers. His teammates surrounded him, hugging him and patting his back. For a moment there was nothing to be seen of Sam, just a pile of bordeaux jerseys and golden shorts.

The Flintwood High didn’t look happy. The keeper yelled at his defense and the coach scolded them simultaneously.

“How could you possibly overlook fucking Bigfoot?!” he clamored.

“Don’t insult my brother because your players are losers, jackass!” Dean called and the coach gave him the finger, without turning around.

Dean leapt up, fists clenched.

“Calm down!” Charlie commanded, dragging him down.

* * *

 

From that moment on, the game become more and more abrasive. Their opponents were angry and not willing to lose. Some of the players’ faces were distorted from pure hatred. The referee didn’t look bored anymore, rather worried. He didn’t even bother to put the yellow card back into his front pocket.

Once again Castiel congratulated himself on not signing up for any sport team. He silently admired Sam for having a hulk out when an opponent pulled at his jersey, nearly causing him to fall. They seemed to zero in on him now for having scored the goal.

Dean, however, didn’t remain silent when his brother was being fouled. Castiel had immediately recognized the older boy when he had shown up. He had seen him sitting close to Sam during lunchtime. If Sam hadn’t mentioned that his elder brother would come, he’d never thought that _this_ was Dean. The two brothers didn’t look alike at all. Sam was taller, his hair darker, with eyes like a puppy. Although Dean was about a head shorter, one could tell from his face that he was older. He wore an oversized bay-colored leather jacket and a worn out pair of jeans; his sandy blonde hair was spikey. He frowned as he shouted abuse at the referee for not punishing a foul on his brother. There was no other way of describing him: he looked _totally badass_.

Castiel blushed at this thought. Did he just think that his new friend’s brother was hot? Great.

As the match continued, Castiel caught himself glancing over to Dean quite frequently. He was wearing cowboy boots. They would’ve looked totally silly on anyone else, but damn, on him they looked cool. When he was not shouting and gesturing, he was sprawled nonchalantly on his chair. His hands were dug deep into his jacket’s pockets.

Castiel was so immersed in his observation that the outcry of pain followed by the shrill noise of a whistle took him by surprise.

He focused on the pitch again, only to see Sam lying on the grass, an expression of pain on his face.

“Sammy!” Dean cried.

He and the red haired girl hurried onto the field. Castiel stood up too, hesitating. He wasn’t sure whether Sam wanted him to come to him when he was hurt. He slowly made his way down to the field. Some other players had grouped around Sam. One of them lifted him up. Dean supported him. They were on their way to the first row of the seats, when Castiel joined them.

“You okay?” he asked, feeling like he had to say something.

“Don’t know.”

Dean placed his brother on a seat, Castiel and the girl sat down on each side of him. Dean knelt before him.

“I’ll have a look on your leg, okay?”

Sam nodded feebly. Dean untied his shoelaces, removed his dirty cleats and then gingerly stripped off his brother’s sock. He removed the shin guard.

“Can you move your leg?” Dean asked.

His voice was soft. There was an expression of worry on his face. Castiel thought it made him look younger. From up close he saw that he had perfectly green eyes and freckles. His lips looked like they were made for kissing, pink and luscious. _Breathe, Castiel_.

Sam bent and stretched his leg slowly. There were tiny bruise marks at the back of his lower leg, where the other player had hit him with his shoes.

“Ouch,” the girl commented.

“That fucker will have to answer to me,” Dean barked, frowning. “Which one was it? The one with number two?”

“Dean, stop that crap! Calm down, will you?” Sam said pleadingly.

He glanced over to Castiel, looking embarrassed. Castiel tried to signalize him that there was nothing to be embarrassed about, but he strongly suspected that the nervous twitch of his mouth was hard to interpret.

The match went on.

“Do you want to wait for the final whistle or shall we go now?” Dean asked.

Sam shrugged.

“It’s only ten minutes left,” he said, “But I have to tell Coach Gordon I’m going.”

“I’ll do that,” the girl said, “You go to the car.”

She went to speak to the coach.

“My stuff’s over there,” Sam explained, pointing toward a sports bag.

“Hey, Nov – what was your name again?”

It was the first time that Dean addressed him and also the first time he had really looked at him. His bright green eyes were piercing.

“It’s… it’s Castiel,” he stammered.

“Could you fetch the bag, Cas, while I transfer my little brother here to the car?”

“Sure,” Castiel replied hastily.

He sprung to his feet, hurried over to the players’ bags and grabbed Sam’s. _Cas_. He had called him _Cas_. Few people had ever bothered to give him a nickname. Except for his brother who was definitely too enthusiastic about it.

Castiel silently accompanied them to the car – a shiny black Chevy Impala. The ginger girl opened the back door and they maneuvered Sam onto the seat.

He was already complaining, saying he was ‘all fine’.

Dean was about to disappear in the car, when he paused.

“Can I give you a lift, Cas?” he asked.

“Um, no, thank you, I’ve come by bike.”

“I see.”

“See ya, Castiel,” Sam called and then they sat off.

Castiel looked after them, until the car hit the crossroad and turned right. He blinked. His fingers were trembling lightly when he opened his bike lock. He placed his trench coat under the carrier and mounted his bike.

He smiled all the way home; one word fleeting through his mind. _Dean_.

                                                                                                                     

_  
_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was playing soccer for some time too, so while writing this I had a few war flashbacks :)


	4. Anna

When Castiel woke up the next morning, he got up in a hurry to gain more time to get ready for school. He yawned wildly. It had taken him quite some time to fall asleep. Two eyes, as green as a cat’s, had kept him awake. His dreams were steeped in a deep voice whispering _Cas_.

He stood in front of his wardrobe-shelves, wondering which shirt would make him look best. He was absolutely clueless, but he figured in the end that it probably wouldn’t make a difference anyway. He settled for a simple dark gray one.

His reflection in the mirror looked back at him with tired eyes. He searched the shelf for hair wax, scanning through his brother’s countless beauty products. Castiel was fascinated – he’d always assumed that his brother didn’t even brush his hair. But no, there were three different types of shampoo ( _Angel heaven_ , _Chocolate dreamz_ and _Perfect Hair: Men_ ), conditioner, moisturizer and several other little bottles and tubes.

He finally found what he desired. He put a bit of wax on his fingertips and ran them through his dark hair, ruffling it.

“You really don’t need to do that,” Gabriel commented, standing on the threshold, “You always look like you’ve just survived a tornado.”

Castiel was tempted to stick his tongue out at him.

* * *

 

He didn’t have to wait a long time for the school bus. There weren’t many people in it yet. There were seven stops before it arrived at school. The bus ride took approximately fifteen minutes. Today there was only a middle school student and a redhead sitting in it when he entered.

At first he thought it was Dean’s companion, but this girl had no bangs. She also wore a light colored blouse instead of a _Harry Potter_ fan shirt. Still, there was something familiar about her. Was she in one of his classes? He tried to remember. When he was only two rows away from her, she looked up. Greenish brown eyes scanned his face. He knew those eyes. They widened with recognition.

“Cassie?” she called.

“Anna?” he asked hesitantly.

Could it really be his childhood friend?

“Cassie!”

She jumped up and hurried over, wrapping her arms around him, squeezing him.

“Castiel Novak,” she said finally, “what a surprise.”

She let go of him and gestured him to take the seat next to her.

“What on _earth_ care you doing here?” she asked.

“Taking the bus to school, I suppose,” he replied with a grin.

She rolled her eyes.

“I can see that. I mean why are you here? In this town? Going to school? That.”

“I moved back.”

“When?”

And so he filled her in on the latest events. He asked why he hadn’t seen her at school. She told him that she had been at home with a fever the past two weeks.

“You have to come visit me, Amy and Richard will be _delighted_ to see you.”

“Who are Amy and Richard?” Castiel asked confused.

“My parents, silly,” she said jolly but then she became silent.

She stared outside the window, fidgeting absentminded with the latches of her school bag.

“What’s the matter?” Castiel asked.

“It’s… Some time ago I found out I was adopted. It was kind of a shock, as you can imagine…”

Castiel simply nodded. He thought of the Miltons, but their faces were but a mere blur in his memory. He hadn’t seen them for at least ten years. Anna had been his closest childhood friend. Their mothers had known each other. Anna was two years older but they had been the bestest of friends. After the Novaks had moved away, they had visited each other a couple times, but time and distance had torn them apart.

“So, did you make any friends yet?” Anna asked, clearly eager to change the subject.

“Yeah, maybe. I’ve got some classes together with a Sam Winchester. I don’t know whether-”

“I know him. He’s nice. His brother, _Dean_ ,” she stressed the word, sounding, what? Annoyed?, “is in my biology class. We, uh, we ‘studied anatomy together’ one time, if you know what I mean.”

She winked.

“You did?”

Castiel was unsure how to respond to that. There he was, sitting on the bus with the girl he had played house with, and she had just told him that she had had a thing with his brand new crush. If that was indeed what she had been implying. And what exactly did she imply? Sex? A picture of two people flashed before his eyes, bodies entangled, red hair obscuring their faces. He quickly shoved the mental image aside. His face was suddenly hot. Was he blushing out of embarrassment or rather because he felt… could it be jealousy? That would be absurd! He’d only laid eyes on Dean yesterday. Was he lost already? It suggested itself that Dean, hot as he was, had to be rather popular.

“But that was _ages_ ago. I mean he probably doesn’t even remember it.”

Wow, if he forgot that he had slept with someone he had to be _really_ popular. Anna laughed somewhat nervously.

“Sorry, Cassie. Oversharing. Anyway, I’m glad you made some friends.”

The bus stopped in front of their school and they exited, filing behind a bunch of other tired looking, grumpy students. Anna put an arm around his shoulders while they walked up to the building.

“You being here again is just super awesome, you know,” she cheered, “Let’s meet up during the first break. See you in front of the janitor’s office, okay?”

* * *

 

The classmates waiting in front of the classroom eyed Anna and Castiel curiously. When she left him, two girls started to whisper. Castiel thought it was odd but he decided to ignore it. Sam soon joined him.

“How are you?” he asked the tall boy.

“I’m okay. My leg’s fine as long as no one touches it.”

In history class they had to work in groups that day. Becky shot Sam a hopeful look, but Miss Raphael enumerated them. Castiel and Sam were separated due to that, too. Castiel had to team up with a not-yet-awake metal fan whose long hair was hiding his face, the girl who always read books during class and one of the girls that had been whispering.

While he was reading the text they had been given, she addressed him in an undertone.

“If I were you I wouldn’t mix with Anna Milton.”

“Why not?” Castiel asked coolly, not looking up from the text.

“Well,” she said, brushing her auburn hair out of her face, “You probably don’t know because you’re new, but Anna is…”

She paused, apparently trying to create an aura of suspense. Castiel lifted his eyebrows.

“… she’s, like, a slut.”

Castiel squinted disapprovingly at her.

He wasn’t sure what you had to do in this school to be considered a slut, but he was sure that whatever it was, he wouldn’t mind anyone doing it. People were far too interested in other people’s love lives.

* * *

Dean and Charlie sat at their usual spot in the cafeteria. Charlie halfheartedly picked at her food with her fork. She was miserable. She had forgotten to take her own lunch to school and had to resort to the school grub if she didn’t want to starve miserably.

“I hate school. I wanna go home,” she grumbled, “I hate this food. I just wanna sleep.”

“What’s the matter with you today? How come you hate food now?”

“Oh, I’m just fucking tired, sexually frustrated, bored to death, surrounded by blockheaded bitches…”

“Ooh. You really have a bad day.”

“Yeah. And, FYI, it’s not a‘lady thing’.”

“How come you’re sexually frustrated?” Dean asked with a grin.

Charlie observed her distorted reflection in her spoon.

“Have you seen Scarlet Johansson in _He’s Just Not That Into You_? How come _you_ are not sexually frustrated?!”

At this moment Sam entered the cafeteria, accompanied by Castiel and Anna. They headed toward their table.

“Dude, is _Castiel Novak_ holding hands with _Anna Milton_?” Dean said in disbelief.

Charlie picked up her colorful spectacles that had been lying next to her plate and put them on her nose. She inspected the trio on the other side of the room.

“Yes, Castiel Novak is definitely holding hands with Anna Milton,” she confirmed.

“Wow,” Dean said with a whistle, impressed, “I thought the guy just moved here.”

“Well, he’s a handsome fellow…” Charlie stated.

“He is?” Dean replied, looking at the dark haired boy.

“Dean, it is really time for you to see an eye specialist; how many times do I have to tell you?”

“No, I mean _you_ think he is handsome?”

“Yes, to a certain degree.”

“But you’re gay!”

“I am but that doesn’t mean I can’t find a guy esthetically pleasant. I’m gay, not blind. Dean, you can’t tell me you don’t think some guys are good-looking, too.”

Dean still had his eyes fixed on Castiel. Sam was just vividly telling him a story. He was very attentive and nodded frequently to show he was listening. His hair was extremely messy. He looked a little bit peaky in his gray shirt, but it displayed his slim yet not unappealing build perfectly. Dean had to admit to himself that he, too, thought him to be rather handsome and cute with his large eyes and concentrated expression.

“I guess you’re right,” he sighed.

“Dean likes a boy, Dean likes a boy,” Charlie mocked him with singsong voice.

“Shut up,” he hissed and gave her a kick under the table, “I still don’t trust him.”

“Oh, come on, Dean, don’t be so… I don’t know. To me he seems like a decent guy.”

“If he ever hurts Sammy…” Dean said, not ending his sentence.

“He probably won’t. Just try to be nice for a nanosecond,” Charlie asked him.

She was massaging her temples.

“I’m always nice.”

“Yes, Dean, you’re awesome,” she replied with her eyes closed, her words drenched in sarcasm.

The procession arrived. Anna was still clutching Castiel’s hand. He seemed to be quite comfortable with that. He’d thought that Cas was rather one of the nervous sort. Apparently he was wrong.

“I hope it’s okay if I sit with you guys,” Anna said with a quick look into Dean’s direction.

“Yeah, sure,” Dean replied not looking into her eyes.

“Of course you can sit with us,” Sam told her, “it’s not like there’s some exclusive club.”

He cast a sharp look at his older brother.

Anna gave him a meek smile. She sat down between Sam and Castiel, who were producing their lunch packs from their school bags.

“Hey, Cas,” Dean said with a smile.

_See that, Charlie, I’m being_ nice, Dean thought.

“Hello, Dean,” the boy answered with a pleasant, deep voice that he hadn’t noticed the day before. It gave him the chills.

Cas seemed surprised to be addressed by Dean and looked at him as if he was expecting him to say something else. Now that there was only the table between them, Dean noticed that Castiel’s eyes were of a dark shade of blue. He looked like a curious puppy or maybe a kitten.

Dean cleared his throat.

“So, erm, did you come home alright yesterday?”

“Yes, thank you.”

“Where do you live, then?” Dean asked, trying not to sound like a creep.

“I live with my brother on Main Street, just a couple blocks away from Twin Pines Mall.”

Dean nodded. _Say something interesting_ , he thought, but nothing came to his mind.

He finished his meal trying not to look at Anna.

Anna and Dean hadn’t talked to each other in a while. They’d never been close friends. Still, there had been something between the two of them. It had been on the winter ball in their sophomore year. Anna had looked absolutely amazing in a pale rose tulle dress. She had been standing next to the buffet, a crumb from the chocolate cake she’d been eating in the corner of her mouth. He’d just finished his slice of pie when she had spoken to him. “You wanna dance or something?” she had asked. Although Dean didn’t like dancing so much, he had agreed. After a while he hadn’t felt stupid anymore. He hadn’t been talented exactly but very enthusiastic. The two of them had danced until their cheeks were hot and rosy. They had gone out in the cold air, first to cool down, then to make out. They had eventually ended up in the back of Dean’s Impala, getting to ‘third base’. It had been Dean’s first time.

They hadn’t had sex because they’d been in love. They did it for fun and because they were curious and excited. It had been weird afterward; none of them knew whether they wanted to be in a relationship with each other. They tried for but it didn’t feel right. So they split up.

When Anna’s parents had told her they had adopted her, she was out of her mind. She had retreated from company, she was often absent from school and rumors said she spent her afternoons in therapy and her nights drinking.

From what Dean had heard, he hadn’t been her latest conquest. Anna was to be seen making out with random dudes at parties. On one of these occasions she had found herself facing Dean. Dean had just broken up with Lisa. He, too, was emotionally unstable. They had searched comfort in each other; had kissed and caressed each other, but it was a one-time thing, just like the sex. They never talked. Dean felt vulnerable in her presence, as if he was naked again.

She looked better these days, almost the same as she did two years ago on that day to remember. He was happy that she was happy – at least one of them.

“So, did you guys know each other?” Dean asked, trying to sound as casual as possible.


	5. Don't have sex cuz you will get pregnant!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title is, as you may have guessed, from "Mean Girls". I thought it fit quite well.

The next day, Crowley caught up with Dean after Chemistry. The Scottish boy had a smug grin on his face that Dean didn’t like at all. He increased his pace, but Crowley wasn’t that easy to escape.

“Hey, squirrel!” he called and gripped the shoulder strap of Dean’s schoolbag, holding him back.

“What is it, _Fergus_?” Dean snapped, turning around.

Crowley squinted at the mention of his given name.

“Just had a little encounter with Lisa Braeden. Pretty obvious that she has a bun in the oven now, innit?”

“So?” Dean replied, snatching the strap away from Crowley’s hands.

“I thought I’d come congratulate the young father…”

He smirked.                                                                                                                

“I don’t know what you mean,” Dean said as firm as possible.

He turned around, trying to walk away. He didn’t want to spend another afternoon in Miss Banks’ office.

“So it’s not yours then? You weren’t the only one? Ooh, that _whore_ …”

Crowley giggled. Dean stopped in his tracks.

“Come again?”

“A whore is a whore, is a whore, is a whore…” Crowley sang.

Dean was with him again with light speed. He shoved his classmate roughly against the blue lockers, tugging at the front of his shirt.

“You shut your big fat mouth,” he hissed.

Their faces were only inches apart. To Dean’s big disappointment Crowley was still grinning.

“How intimidating,” he said in an amused voice, “Seems like I hit a sore spot. If you’d excuse me now, I’ve got some business to do.”

He pressed the joints of Dean’s thumb together, so that Dean yelped in pain and immediately let go of him.

Dean looked after him, fists clenched. God, did he hate him.

* * *

 

“Dean, good, you’re here,” John said, as soon had entered the house, “We’re going out for dinner.”

“What?!” Dean exclaimed.

“You heard me. We leave in ten minutes.”

“But there’s… there’s something on TV I wanted to watch!” he protested.

He had nearly said _Doctor Sexy_. His father didn’t know about his obsession with that ridiculously cliché hospital show. He probably wouldn’t approve. Too sappy, to girly. John had never been one for television. He’d introduced his son’s to some of the classics, however. Sometimes he would watch old westerns when they were shown late. One could hear the lousy shot sound effects in Dean’s room. When Dean was younger, he had sneaked downstairs past bedtime, telling his father that he had troubles to fall asleep so that he could watch some of it with him. Playing Sheriff had been his favorite game. His leather boots, however, were a more recent purchase. He would never admit it, but he’d been inspired to buy them because of said medical drama. Wearing cowboy boots immediately gave you an air of authority – or an air of someone who doesn’t mind being laughed at.

“This is family business. Is watching TV more important to you than your family?” John asked.

Dean didn’t answer his father’s question. He was pissed. He had looked forward to chill on the couch and had been eager for his weekly ‘guilty pleasure’. His day had been shitty, thanks to Crowley and his math teacher’s ambition of ruining his life. Couldn’t his father tell him earlier what he had planned?

“We could stay in. We could make pizza. Or order something,” he suggested hopefully.

“We are meeting with Kate. There is something important we need to discuss. Grab yourself a fresh t-shirt, tell Sam we’re going and for heaven’s sake put on some other shoes!”

Dean looked down on his pointed leather boots and proceeded to scowl at his father.

 

* * *

 

Dean sat in the back, still sulking, when Kate joined them in the car. She had put on some makeup and wore a nice dress. Dean faintly wondered what kind of occasion justified this kind of dressing up. John was wearing a white dress shirt, too. What were they going to discuss? Oh god, what if they were going to announce their engagement? Dean sighed.

He didn’t want a stepmother. He was fine with them being just three. Sam seemed just as baffled as he was.

They parked in front of an Asian restaurant. It was no diner, but a proper restaurant. It was almost fancy! John circled the car to open Kate’s door like the gentleman he wasn’t.

 

Once they had settled down, John and Kate on one side of the table, the brothers on the other side, there was awkward silence. Kate smiled at them and took John’s hand.

Dean cleared his throat and busied himself with studying the menu. Lisa had liked holding his hand, too. He had liked the soft feeling of her thumb stroking the back of his hand. Still, he hadn’t liked to hold hands in public. She had been slightly offended by that. They’d even had an argument about it, once. She had asked him whether he was ashamed of being with her. He had been hurt that she could possibly think something like that. He’d never felt about anyone the way he had felt about Lisa. Dean didn’t know why the hand-holding had made him uncomfortable. He thought that maybe it was because of his father who, too, had serious problems with showing affection. Dean sometimes wondered if it was because of their mother’s death or if it simply was a character trait of his – in any case it had rubbed off on him.

 

After ordering their food, John leaned onto his arms.

“There is something that we, Kate and I, would like to tell you,” he began.

Kate smiled. Did she ever do something else? It was one of the reasons that Dean didn’t like her very much. Maybe it was because of her profession – she worked in a hospital – but Dean found it even a little bit scary. How could you smile when the world was going down the plughole?

“Your father and I are now together for quite a long time,” she interjected.

Dean sighed. He had known it. They were getting married. Would they ask him to scatter petals, wear a pretty dress?

“Kate’s moving in with us,” John said, “because… you’re going to have a sibling.”

Dean and Sam exchanged looks. Sam seemed surprised. Dean wasn’t sure how to describe what he was feeling. It hadn’t been what he was expecting at all. Why didn’t he think of it? Kate was 39, so younger than his father. Why had he presumed that she didn’t want children? He looked at Kate who didn’t look pregnant at all but, well, who knew how long she was? When it showed was different from woman to woman. Dean knew that from his recent researches.

“I know that’s probably something you need to wrap your head around first,” John said.

Dean wasn’t listening.

An image had formed in his head – he knew it was ridiculous because Lisa was way ahead of Kate – but he pictured himself and his father on a hospital corridor (the one from _Doctor Sexy_ ), hearing the muffled crying of babies and then two nurses came out of two rooms, each carrying a baby in their arms.

“Congratulations, Mr Winchester, you’ve just become father,” they said simultaneously.

How on _earth_ was he going to tell his father that he would become a grandfather, too? Would he be mad and call him a reckless fool? Would he play the disappointed parent card? Or would he be even understanding? Dean doubted it sincerely.

While the boys had grown up to be pretty independent, it was responsibility that John had always been expecting from them. They had learnt to take care of themselves. He had fucked up. He had fucked up completely. And again for the millionth time he asked himself how it had happened.

He wanted to cry, to storm to the restrooms, shut the door behind him and cry. But he didn’t, he couldn’t. He focused on keeping his expression neutral. Kate and John were looking at them expectantly. Surely they wanted to hear something from them. He glanced over to his brother who was fumbling for words as well.

“That’s, uh, great,” he stammered and then actually stretched out his hand and said, “Welcome to the family, Kate.”

Dean felt sick.

 

As soon as he was home he darted up to his room and slammed the door. He had barely touched his food, but he didn’t feel hungry at all. He impatiently waited for his laptop to start.

He sighed in relief when he saw that Charlie was online as well.

_GothamCity:_ charlie???

 

He typed. It took a minute until a reply appeared on the screen.

 

_Ginmione5eva:_ What’s up?

_GothamCity:_ just having a nervous breakdown

_Ginmione5eva:_ What happened?!

_GothamCity:_ kate is pregnant too

_Ginmione5eva:_ You haven’t been naughty again, have you?

_GothamCity:_ HA HA not funny!! Now how am i supposed to tell dad he’s becoming father & grandfather?

_Ginmione5eva:_ So you talked with Lisa?

_GothamCity:_ no

_Ginmione5eva:_ How do you know then?

_Ginmione5eva:_ Don’t panic, Dean, OK?

_GothamCity:_ i try

_Ginmione5eva:_ You talk to her first thing tomorrow. Then we’ll decide what to do, deal?

_GothamCity:_ ok

_Ginmione5eva:_ So, how do you feel about getting another sibling?

_GothamCity:_ idk…

How was he supposed to feel? Did he want another sibling? He hadn’t thought about what it really meant. All his thoughts had circulated on how this situation was weird and complicated and how he was supposed to manage it all. But if, yes, he had to remind himself again, it was still a big IF, he should become brother and father now, it would mean that there were two real, little human beings. Cute, defenseless, needy, pooping, crying, little human beings.

But having a baby brother or sister was something completely different to having a child of one’s own. Kate and John would take care of it. With the baby… he would be responsible. Or wouldn’t he? Had Lisa remained silent for the whole time because she didn’t want him to have contact? Did he want contact?

He pressed his face into his pillow, soaking in the familiar smell. A little sob escaped his lips. _FUCK._

 

 

 


	6. All hail Santa

“I still can’t believe you persuaded me to come with you,” Gabriel sighed when he parked his shabby car in front of the Novaks’ neatly mowed lawn.

Castiel chuckled. He anteceded, Gabriel followed, a cheap flower bouquet they had purchased at the gas station in his hands. Castiel rang. The door was opened almost immediately.

“Castiel, Gabriel, how lovely,” their aunt Claire greeted them.

She was a short fortyish woman who wore a twin set, like always.

Gabriel handed over the flower bouquet.                       

“Thank you! Please, come in!”

They followed her into the house. Castiel looked about. It had been ages ago since he had seen the place. Their more recent family meetings had taken place at their house. The nineties interior looked vaguely familiar. There were photos of Michael und Luc as toddlers on the sandy-colored wall. Michael stood at the bottom of the stairs. He grinned at them and shook their hands.

He and his mother led them into the living room. Luc was sprawled on the couch, muffled metal music coming from his headphones.

“Luc, our guests are here,” Claire said and snatched off the headphones.

“Mom!” he protested.

She ignored him.

“I’m just going to get a vase for this,” she told the brothers, “Why don’t you sit down, while we set the table?”

“We’ll hel-,” Castiel began, but Gabriel dragged him down on the sofa. “Yes, why not.”

When the table was set, they all gathered around. Uncle Zachariah had joined them. He was the one who said grace. Castiel felt awkward. His aunt’s hands felt cold and weak. When Zachariah had finished, they all said “Amen”, Gabriel with in a rather annoyed tone.

“Yes, thanks, God, for all the war and hunger and misery on this Earth,” Luc said sarcastically, “Maybe you should pay Satan a visit; he could teach you how to treat people in a decent way.”

“Luc!” Claire exclaimed indignantly, “That’s no desert for you.”

“Fine,” he snapped.

“Don’t talk like that to your mother,” Zachariah said menacingly.

“Like what?”

“That’s it. Go to your room.”

Luc let his cutlery drop on his yet empty plate. He shoved back his chair, squeaking on the polished flagging. He slammed the door shut behind him and they could hear him galumph all the way up to his room. Another door was shut, then there was silence. Castiel dared not to look into his aunt’s and uncle’s eyes. Claire proceeded to put food on their plates. They ate in silence. It didn’t taste bad, but Castiel’s appetite was spoilt. He barely touched his desert, a chocolate cream.

“So, how’s school going?” Zachariah questioned when Castiel had put down his spoon.

“Good,” Castiel answered timidly.

Like his father his aunt and his uncle (who was his father’s brother) always made him feel like a small and weak.

“Did you join any clubs?” Claire asked in a sweet voice.

“No.”

“You could always join the Mathletes, like Michael,” she suggested.

“He doesn’t want, Mom,” Michael informed her.

“Oh, but why?”

Castiel shrugged.

“Castiel isn’t much into extracurricular activities,” Gabriel said with a grin, “He prefers to spend the whole day on the couch watching DVDs.”

Castiel shot him an angry look. That was the revenge for forcing him to come with him.

“Castiel, darling, why don’t you go upstairs and tell Luc he may come down.”

 

Castiel knocked on what he believed was Luc’s room.

“Fuck off,” was the reply.

“Erm, it’s Castiel,” he replied uneasy, “Claire says you may come down.”

“Come on in!”

“What?”

“Come on in,” Luc repeated, “I want to have a word with you.”

Castiel slowly opened the door. Luc’s room was smaller than he remembered. The walls had the same sick color than the hall. There were no pictures or posters (Castiel strongly suspected that he hadn’t been allowed to put up any), but Luc had written all kinds of things on them with a black sharpie. _ALL HAIL SANTA_ it said above the head of his bed. Castiel fleetly wondered whether it was a mistake or whether Luc had deliberately transposed the letters. Luc himself sat on the window sill, window wide open. He had a cigarette in his hand and blew smoke into the night.

“You smoking?” he asked.

“No,” Castiel answered, awkwardly standing in the doorway.

“Sit down,” Luc said, apparently not caring whether his choice of words was polite or not.

Castiel closed the door behind him and sat down on the white sheets of Luc’s bed. The smell of Luc’s cigarette was unpleasant, but Castiel acted as if he didn’t mind. He was almost used to the biting sensation in his nose. Back home there had been lots of kids smoking during school breaks.

“So, I’ve seen you hanging around with Sammy Winchester a lot,” he stated.

“Yeah, we’ve got some classes together,” Castiel said, not sure what this was going to be about.

“He’s sweet.”

Okay, really, what was this about? He looked at his cousin with refreshed curiosity. He was sweet. Sweet like in _gosh, he’s so sweet, I luv him <3 _? So, was Luc not only a Satanist as it seemed, but also a raging homosexual? Maybe his father should overthink hid decision that his son was the family disappointment.

“No, really, you can be happy to be his friend. We were once, too. Were on a summer camp together. Bunk buddies…”

His voice trailed off.

“But, you know, I’ve done some shit and well, his brother Dean, _the righteous man_ , would kill me if I’d come anywhere close to his precious Sam.”

At the mention of Dean Castiel’s heart skipped a beat. What the hell was this about?

“He’s like an overly protective bulldog.  He hates me. Thinks I’m a bad influence or something. I’m actually really surprised he talks with you. Does he know we’re related?”

“I… I don’t know,” Castiel stammered.

“Well, be careful around him.”

“Yeah, I will, thanks…” Castiel replied.

Luc stubbed out his cigarette and let it drop out of the window. He shut the window and positioned himself on the bed, a yard between them.

“So, you already made friends. What about romance? Did someone caught your eye?” Luc asked.

Castiel was taken aback – did he jump the subject or did he know?

“Yes.”

Castiel didn’t know why he told him the truth. He usually lied about that sort of thing. He had always hated things like _truth or dare_. People could be so nosy. You gave them a finger they’d take the whole hand. _Who is it, Castiel? Tell us, is it Selena? Come on!_

“That’s nice,” Luc said, “I wish you luck with that.”

He gave him an encouraging smile. _Yes, good luck with the overly protective bulldog, Castiel_.

“You know, people assume that I’m like a horrible person. Hell, Mom and Dad think I’m a Satanist. But I’m nice actually. I’m nice. This world just sucks. Anyways, has been good talking to you, Cassidy. Tell Mom I’m not coming.”

 

* * *

 

That night, Dean was not the only one who went to bed with a nearly empty stomach. Castiel was not sobbing, though. He lay there on his mattress on the floor, his eyes wide open, although it was dark in the room and he couldn’t make out the ceiling. So, Dean Winchester didn’t like his cousin. Okay, right. Should that bother him? _Does he know we’re related?_ What if he did know? Would he act different around him? How had he acted around him? Rather indifferent, right? Well, at least they had talked yesterday. He had smiled at him. God, that smile. He had these beautiful lips – he wondered what they tasted like, what they would feel like on his. Hot, messy kisses all over his face… He let his imagination go wild. When he fell asleep there was a small smile on his lips. Having a crush was weird – one moment you were worried to death, the next moment you were indulging yourself in blissful reverie.

 


	7. Refuse thy name.

Castiel was rocking back and forth on his tiptoes. He stood in front of the school entrance, waiting for Sam (and well, Dean of course) to arrive. He’d seen the Impala enter the parking lot. He had told Anna not to wait for him. He watched the Winchesters on their way toward him. Dean looked right past him, not noticing him at all as they climbed up the stairs. Sam, however, saw him.

“Hi,” he greeted him and gave him a casual one-armed hug.

“You coming?” Dean asked impatiently.

“Yeah, sure,” Sam said, raising and eyebrow.

Together they entered the building. Dean walked before them and Castiel could only see his leather-clad back. No “Hey, Cas” for him today. God, he hadn’t even _looked_ at him!

When they had arrived at the stairs that led to the second story, Dean nodded briefly at them and hurried upstairs. Sam sighed.

“He’s acting weird all morning,” he said while they walked to their classroom, cleaving through the crowd.

“What do you mean?” Castiel asked, slightly worried.

“He kept his mouth shut all the time,” Sam explained and added thoughtfully: “Maybe it’s because of last night…”

“Why, what’s happened last night?” Castiel asked, even more worried.

 _Except from Luc telling me that Dean would hate me if he knew who I was?_ Had he found out yesterday and was ignoring him now? Had he been thinking about him at all?

“My dad and his girlfriend are having a baby,” Sam said.

“Oh.”

So it had nothing to do with him. Probably. Well, of course it didn’t! Their paths had crossed only one and a half week ago and for all he knew he hadn’t attracted the Winchester’s attention at all. The attraction that he felt toward the muscular, often frowning, sandy-haired and adorably freckled boy was absolutely one-sided. For all he knew Dean was not into boys. For all he knew he was just his little brother’s new friend. For all he knew Dean might hate him because his shitty cousin was doing shit. Well, shit.

The next few minutes Sam filled him in on the Winchesters’ tragic family history.

“I’m sorry,” Castiel said dully when Sam had ended.

“Thanks.”

They took their seats in Mr Musgrove’s English class. English was one of Castiel’s favorite lessons so far. Their topic at the moment was Shakespeare – to most people the mere thought of this topic meant endless torments, but Castiel liked it because it included both linguistic and historical aspects and because they already had it in his old school. He still knew a lot about it – it meant he didn’t have to be super attentive, and well, it was easy for him to shine. He also liked the teacher (not that way!).

Mr Musgrove was not very strict and so everyone was chatting happily although he had stood up to start his lesson. He cleared his throat and clapped his hands.

“Silence, everyone, please. In the past few weeks we have learnt about Shakespeare’s life and the Elizabethan age in general. Today we will finally read something from the master himself.”

There was collective groaning. Mr Musgrove smiled.

“I know, I know. But, we start with some easy reading before we move on to the heavier stuff. So: Sonnets. Does anyone know what a sonnet is?”

Sam put up his hand, as did some others.

“Yes, Sam?”

“It’s a specific kind of poem.”

“Very good. Today we will talk about poetry!”

“…that’s so gay!” a boy said to his neighbor.

They sniggered. Castiel shifted in his seat.

Becky Rosen, the girl from the school magazine, sighed and turned around to them. She hissed in a low voice: “How can a type of text have a sexual orientation?”

The boys grinned thickly.

“It’s just an expression. Calm yo tits, Becky.”

“It’s disrespectful against gay people,” she said agitated.

“I’m not saying anything against gays, although -” one of them answered, but he was cut off before he could finish his (probably not so gay friendly) sentence by Mr Musgrove.

“Derek, would you be so kind and pay attention?” he said in his usual firm but patient tone.

Castiel turned around again toward the board. He decided that Becky Rosen was not that annoying after all.

They learnt how a sonnet was constructed and were assigned to look up Shakespeare sonnets and present them in class the next day. Castiel liked the assignment. A perfect excuse to re-watch one of his favorite _Doctor Who_ episodes: _The Shakespeare Code_.

 

When English was over, Sam asked: “What about you? Your family I mean?”

“Well, I’ve got a brother, Gabriel. I think I mentioned him sometime.”

“Yeah, you did,” Sam confirmed.

“He’s in college, studying _Media and Art_ or something. My parents are getting in divorce, that’s why I’m staying with him. My parents are from here and I’ve got some more family here. Um, I’ve got two cousins…”

Castiel paused. Could he dare to broach the subject to Sam? There was clearly something about him and Luc that his cousin hadn’t told him.

“We’re not that close, though. We hadn’t seen in ages until now. There’s Michael, I’ve sat with him last week. I don’t know whether you know him?”

Castiel carefully watched Sam’s reaction. He didn’t look particularly angry or anything.

“Yes, I do. Everybody knows the Novaks. Well, Michael and Luc. I know Luc too.”

“I know,” Castiel replied before he could refrain himself.

“Um, what did he tell you?”

“N-nothing!” Castiel stammered, “He just said that you were in summer camp once.”

“That was years ago. Actually between Elementary and Middle school,” Sam said with a frown, “We’re not really friends now. He was a bit annoying.”

“I can imagine,” Castiel said and added in a rush: “Does your brother know that he’s my cousin?”

“What?!”

“I – er, nevermind.”

“He does, as a matter of fact.”

There was a dark look on Sam’s face that Castiel didn’t like at all.

 

* * *

 

Dean had been mentally preparing himself all morning. Repeating over and over what he wanted to say. When the bell actually rang, he was startled for a moment. He walked out of the classroom in a trance. Where would Lisa be now? Mr Hoffman’s room? He followed the stream of students toward the stairs, turning around to see whether Lisa was somewhere behind him. It was just then when he ran into someone. A clutter was to be heard when the person let drop their things.

“Sorry,” he said automatically before he realized who it was.

Familiar brown eyes stared into his, a familiar tanned face framed by black curls, a familiar voice saying “It’s okay.”

“Lisa, hi, I was just – How are you?”

“I’m fine, yeah. Well, considering…”

She pointed at her belly. It looked even more bulbous from up close. She was just so round. Her books and notepad were scattered across the floor. The other people were avoiding them. Lisa was just about to stoop down to collect them.

“Let me,” Dean said and pre-empted her.

He handed them back to her and together they took the now empty stairs down.

“How are you?” Lisa asked in return, “I’ve heard you’ve been sent to Miss Banks again.”

“I’m good,” he replied, his voice a little hoarse, “Listen, Lis,” she smiled when he used her nickname, “There was something I wanted to ask you. Um… Who’s… Did I… Am I the father?”

Lisa looked taken aback by this question.

“What? You really thought…? No, Dean, you’re not.”

Well, at least she didn’t seem to think he had embarrassed himself with the question.

She gestured him to sit down and he obeyed.

“Are you sure?” Dean asked.

“Yeah, pretty sure.”

“Um… how?”

“Well…” Lisa started, “I was taking the pill, remember? And anyway, I got my period afterward, so… Did you think you were the father the whole time?”

He nodded embarrassed. She took his hand and squeezed it gently.

“So… who’s the father then? Do I know him? If you don’t mind me asking…”

Lisa looked somewhat ashamed.

“You don’t know him. You know how my family always goes up to Canada for Christmas? I went out with my cousins and their friends on New Year’s Eve. I was drunk and we were in this Karaoke bar and there was this guy, Troy. He was, like, really really cute… and I was really drunk.”

She didn’t look at him but he could see that there were tears glimmering in her eyes.

“Do you think I’m a whore, Dean? For sleeping with him?”

Crowley’s words rang in Dean’s ears. _A whore is a whore, is a whore, is a whore_ …

“No, I don’t. You’re not, okay?”

She nodded. He put an arm around her shoulders and hugged her. She sniffed once and laughed.

“Is there anything I can do?” Dean asked.

“It’s not your responsibility, Dean,” she said. “And I’m not alone on this one. My parents and my sister support me. _Thank God._ ”

She smiled.

Her face was so close. She looked at him almost the same way she had done back then, but not quite. This would have been the moment where they had kissed, normally. And sure enough, there was a little smirk on Lisa’s lips and she leaned in and their lips met. Dean didn’t pull away. He was surprised. It was only a brief kiss, not deep or passionate or anything. It was a _thank you_ , a _I still think you’re a good person_ and a _good-bye_. Because as soon as their lips departed, Lisa stood up slowly and walked away.

 

* * *

 

What Dean didn’t know was that they had a spectator. Castiel had been on his way to the restroom when he had caught sight of Dean. He was talking to a beautiful, yet obviously pregnant girl. Castiel had intended to just walk on, but then they sat down and they were holding hands. He stood pressed flat against the lockers and peaked around the corner. He couldn’t hear what they were talking, but they looked intimate.

So, what did that mean? Was that Dean’s girlfriend? Was she having his baby? He thought their stepmom was having a baby. Had he misunderstood Sam? No, he surely hadn’t.

He looked at the two of them, a sick feeling creeping up his stomach. Jealousy. So, Dean had a girlfriend. His chances were zilch! He shouldn’t feel jealous. It was not like he had any claim on Dean and it was not like he wanted to carry the Winchester’s child to term. It was just that he wished that it was him who sat there next to him. Especially, when they kissed.

 

Dean didn’t sit with them at lunch. Castiel saw him go out with Charlie. The black-haired girl was not with him. He could see her sit with a couple of girls in the cafeteria.

“Does your brother have a girlfriend?” Castiel asked, trying again to sound as casual as possible, “I’ve seen him with this black-haired girl, the pregnant one.”

“Lisa?” Sam asked, putting his fork down, “But they haven’t been talking for ages!”

“She’s not his girlfriend, then?”

“Ex.”

“They’ve been kissing,” Castiel said not sure if it was okay to tell Sam about it.

Maybe it was a secret.

“Well, that’s new,” Sam replied and then his face became pale with sudden realization; “Oh my god, what if…? Shit. Holy shit.”

“What’s the matter?” Castiel asked innocently.

“Um, nothing. I’m just a little surprised, that’s all.”

Castiel didn’t believe a word.

 

_  
_

 


	8. Predator

Cas was sitting at the bottom of the stairs that led up to the school entrance. It was late. Most students were already inside. He checked the time again. Maybe they wouldn’t come today… His eyes lingered on the school entrance.

He’d just gotten up, when the black Impala finally drove through the gate. The Winchesters parked in one of the few spaces left. The doors were opened. Dean slammed his shut with a thud. He marched up to the school. At first Castiel thought he was just hurrying to come in time, but then he realized that even Sam with his long legs had problems to keep up. Also, Dean had his fists clenched.

“Dean!” Sam shouted after him, “Wait!”

But Dean didn’t slow down. His eyes were focused on the entrance. Or weren’t they? With a shock Castiel realized that Dean was glaring at _him_ and that it was _him_ he was heading to. He looked frightening, like a wild animal, a beast – a puma perhaps. Castiel stepped back to avoid him.

“You know who spies on people, Cas?” Dean growled.

He grabbed the front of Castiel’s trench coat. His face was close, but not in a way that Castiel could appreciate in any way. He couldn’t breathe. This wasn’t the first time he was in a situation like this. It didn’t matter whether he answered or not. It didn’t matter whether he stood still or whether he tried to evade Dean’s grip. Although they were nearly the same height, Dean was much stronger. There was no escape. The fury in his eyes made them look darker.

Dean coarsely pushed him backwards. Castiel’s heels hit the first step and he tumbled. He landed on his derriere, his hands scraping over the craggy stone steps.

“Spies!” Dean answered his own question.

He was towering over Castiel, hands on his hips. With his torn-up jeans, his shoes and his legs wide apart he looked more like a cowboy than ever before. There was a look of disgust on his face.

“Ever heard of something called _privacy_? You don’t sneak around and spy and tell people about it. You just don’t. You know, I really thought you were okay. Turns out you’re just a creepy fucker like Luc. Should’ve known.”

Sam had reached them know. He was panting slightly from chasing his brother.

“Dean, god dammit!” Sam cursed.

“You shut your mouth!” Dean cut him short.

He spit in front of Castiel’s feet and left.

 

“Cas, are you okay?” Sam asked worried.

“Yeah, I- I guess,” Cas stammered.

He rose slowly, his back hurting. As soon as he was standing again, he looked at his hands. The skin of the palms was scratched and dirty. It hurt like hell.

“I’m sorry,” Sam said.

Sam opened the door for Castiel. He remained silent while Sam was complaining about his brother and how he was a jerk. Castiel tried to make sense to what just happened. Yes, he had ‘spied’ on Dean but that didn’t justify such an attack. It was not like he had caught him on doing something illegal. If he was a _creepy fucker_ what was Dean then? A extremely sensitive ticking bomb or what?

Castiel was so deep in thought that he didn’t realize that they weren’t going to their classroom until they stood right in front of the school nurse’s office.

“What are we doing here?” Castiel asked.

“You need bandages or something,” Sam said with a shrug and knocked.

 

When they arrived ten minutes later in Mr Musgrove’s class, there was already someone reciting a sonnet. The girl paused mid-verse when they entered.

“Sorry, we’re late,” said Sam.

“And what is the reason for your collective late-coming?” Mr Musgrove asked, a brow raised.

Sam pointed at Castiel’s bandages.

“I fell,” Castiel explained weakly.

 

As much as Castiel was engaged in his dark thoughts about Dean, he didn’t fail to notice that when Sam stood up to read his sonnet, he looked at one girl in particular. Her name was Ruby. She was sitting in the back, seemingly totally ignorant to the attention. She had sleek dark brown hair and round eyes and expressive eye-brows (current expression: annoyance).

During the second period Sam and Castiel had time to talk.

“What was that about?” Castiel asked in a low voice.

“Dean’s pissed because you told me you saw him with Lisa,” Sam began.

“Why’s that so bad?”

“I… I asked him some questions, because I was curious. He didn’t like me being nosy.”

Castiel still looked puzzled. And Sam sighed.

“I’m sorry I can’t tell you anymore, I don’t want to get you in more trouble.”

 

* * *

 

Eventually the school day was over. Cas met Anna in front of her classroom. Together they set off to the Miltons’. Soon Anna took his hand as it was her fashion.

“What is this?” she asked, when her fingers brushed the bandage.

Castiel told her the story. He didn’t tell her with whom he had seen Dean, though. He wouldn’t take the risk. When Cas had finished his story, Anna gave him a comforting hug.

“I know that Dean can be a little short-tempered from time to time, but this… it’s not like him. I mean, yes, it is like him, just multiplied with ten.”

The afternoon at the Miltons’ was nice. Mr and Mrs Milton were welcoming him heartily. Mrs Milton even hugged him.

“You’ve grown handsome!” she exclaimed, “And you’ve become so tall!”

“Amy, please!” Anna uttered annoyed and Castiel blushed in embarrassment.

Mrs Milton handed them a plate with several slices of her famous chocolate cake and with a bottle of coke they went up to Anna’s room. It was spacious, with a bed plastered with pillows and cushions in one corner, an old wardrobe in another. The walls were painted in pale pink. There were chunks of paper scattered over it. Castiel assumed that there had been pictures that Anna had ripped off the walls.

“I’ve found something,” Anna said.

She picked up a video tape from the nightstand.

“It’s my eighth birthday.”

Watching himself, Anna and five other very cute children playing in the garden, all dressed in colorful nineties clothing, drove Dean from Castiel’s mind. Anna and Castiel were lying on Anna’s bed. Anna was snuggled up to Cas. He didn’t mind per se; her warm body was comforting. Castiel wondered, however, if it was appropriate for platonic friends or whether Anna might want more than to be just friends and that holding hands with him and all that was her sending signals.

“You know most guys would have started groping by now,” Anna whispered in his ear.

“Um, do you want me to _grope_ you?” Castiel inquired.

“No, not necessarily.”

“Good,” Castiel said with a sigh of relief, “because I really like you, but I’m gay.”

Anna lifted her head to get a better look at his face.

“Gay, huh?” She poked him playfully in the side.

He suppressed a giggle. He was extremely ticklish.

“That’s fine with me,” she said earnestly.

 

* * *

 

When Castiel came home, his brother was brooding over his books and notes. Cas remembered that he, too, had homework to do. He dropped his schoolbag next to the chair opposite of Gabriel. He walked over to the kitchenette and poured himself a glass of water.

“How was your day?” Gabriel asked when Castiel sat down with a sigh.

He closed his book with a thud.

“What happened to your hands?!”

“I fell.”

“You fell?”

“I was pushed and fell.”

“You were pushed and fell?!” Gabriel repeated.

“Yeah,” Castiel said and fished for his math book.

“Castiel, talk to me. What happened?” Gabriel asked.

“I had some trouble with this guy at school. But I can handle it, Gabe! Don’t flip out, okay?”

“Are you being bullied?”

“No, Gabe, I’m not, okay?” Castiel forced himself to look straight into Gabriel’s face.

“Fine. But hey – if there’s something wrong you tell me and we figure it out, right?”

“Right.”

Gabriel didn’t dig any deeper. He emptied the table and started to make pancakes. Gabriel could always eat pancakes, it was almost gross. He poured maple syrup all over it, or ate them with Nutella. Castiel tried to do his homework, but it was in vain. He simply couldn’t concentrate.

He decided to take a shower to relax. He loosened the bandages from his hands. The scratches burned when the warm water ran over them, but apart from that the shower was marvelous.

He had just finished toweling himself off when the doorbell rang.

_  
_

 


	9. Dean, I'm your (damn) father!

“I’m going,” Gabriel informed him through the closed bathroom door. Castiel could hear a muffled conversation, then the door was closed again.

“Dude, I didn’t know you had Rapunzel coming over,” Gabriel called.

“What?” Castiel asked confused.

“There’s this guy at the door who wants to speak to you. I told him to wait a second.”

“Who is it?” Castiel wanted to know.

Gabriel gave no answer. Castiel assumed that he had shrugged. He rubbed his hair for a last time and put on a pair of boxers and his blue bathrobe in a hurry.

He stepped out of the bathroom barefoot. Hesitantly he opened the door. He peeked through the gap.

“Cas?” Dean asked gravelly.

Castiel slammed the door shut. What was he doing here? Hadn’t pushing him at school been enough? And how did he even know where he lived? Duh, he had told him in person.

Castiel breathed heavily while he leaned against the door. He wanted to call out for Gabriel who had vanished into his bedroom.

“Cas?” Dean called again from the other side of the door. “Hey, listen, man, I came to apologize. Come on. Open the door.”

There was a moment of silence and Cas thought that maybe he had left.

“Please.”

Castiel slowly opened the door again. This time the gap was a little bigger, but he still clutched the door ready to close it within seconds. Dean looked Cas over and suddenly he was all too self-conscious. He fastened his belt and glared at Dean, trying to look sullen and not a teensy bit afraid.

“Yeah, I just wanted to, you know…”

Castiel didn’t say anything but looked at Dean expectantly. The Winchester was studying his pointy shoes, biting his lips. Not very menacing, Castiel had to admit, but still looks could be deceiving as he knew only too well.

“I’m sorry. I lost my temper this morning.”

Castiel still didn’t reply anything. Dean desperately searched Castiel’s face for a reaction.

“See, Cas, I’ve been stressed out for a long time. Lisa – that’s the girl you’ve seen me with – is my ex.” Dean exhaled as if he had come to a decision. “She is pregnant and I thought it was because of me and I was freaked out. Turned out that I’m not the father. I found out just yesterday. I hadn’t told Sam and Dad. And then you told Sam what you saw and the penny dropped. He started asking questions. And Dad got wind of it. He gave me the full-on _why-didn’t-you-tell-me-I’m-your-damn-father_ speech and although everything’s okay he told me off for it and I was pissed at you ‘cause you sort of triggered all that, you know? It’s really nothing personal. What I said about Luc – I didn’t mean it. From what Sammy told you really are a good guy. So, yeah, I’m really sorry.”

When Dean called him a “good guy” Castiel blushed against his will. He didn’t want to forgive Dean – but now he understood why Dean had acted that way, even if he didn’t approve it. Still Dean really looked like he meant it – he looked perfectly crestfallen, hands dug deep into his jacket’s pockets, an apologetic expression on his face.

“I would’ve bought you flowers,” Dean said with the hint of a smile, indicating he was joking, “but I wasn’t sure which one you like.”

Cas smiled a little.

“So, um, can I take you out for pizza or something?” Dean asked, this time sounding serious.

“Now?” Castiel blurted out.

“Or tomorrow or whenever you like,” Dean said.

“Yeah, m-maybe tomorrow…” Cas stammered.

“Is that a Yes?” Dean questioned.

“Yes.”

Dean nodded. He tentatively stepped forward and playfully boxed Cas’ shoulder.

“I’ll pick you up at seven.”

“Okay,” Cas replied breathlessly.

Dean rushed down the stairs. It was when Cas heard the front door thunk shut that he, too, slowly closed their door.

He marched into his room and sank onto the mattress. What a day.

 

* * *

 

 _God, that was awkward!_ Dean started the Impala’s engine and set off toward home. He hadn’t intended to ask Cas out. It had just sort of happened. Castiel’s blue eyes had been dazzling. He couldn’t think straight.

Sam had been cool toward him all day and Charlie had scolded him too, when she found out what had happened. He had felt guilty all day. It had been Sam who suggested he should go apologize. Dean had rejected the idea at first. Saying it was a good idea would’ve meant to admit he’d made a mistake. But eventually he had given in.

When he saw the way Cas was clinging to the door for support, he had felt terrible. He was ashamed of himself.

He had made that totally not funny flower joke to ease the situation. _And then I asked him out. Wait. No. It’s not like we’re going on a date or something,_ Dean thought. He shook his head. All he wanted was kiss and make up. Well, without the kissing. Just making it up to him. God, what had happened to his brain?!

Dean vanished into his room as soon as he got home. John and Kate were sitting in the living room, talking, and Sam was up in his room, studying for a Spanish test. When he heard Dean arrive, he put his vocabulary book aside and walked over to his brother’s room.

“How did it go?” he asked.

“Peachy,” Dean grunted.

“Did he accept your apology?” Sam wanted to know.

“I don’t know, man,” Dean answered, unconsciously scratching the back of his head, “He wouldn’t even let me in.”

“But he talked to you, didn’t he?”

“Yeah, kind of. I’ve invited him to grab some dinner tomorrow,” Dean told him.

“You what?” Sam asked surprised.

“I… I asked him whether he wanted to go get some pizza or something and he said yes,” Dean said sounding unsure, “That’s a good sign, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, I guess,” Sam said and sat down beside Dean.

He was pleased that Dean had apologized to his friend; he was surprised that Dean had asked Cas to have dinner with him and he was worried about Dean’s tone.

“Want to come with us?” Dean asked hopefully, “Maybe it’s less awkward with you around.”

“I think this is between you and Cas.”

 

_  
_

 


	10. The Adventures of Batman and Cas

Cas rifled through the piles of clothes that he kept in the drawers of the bottom shelf. He wondered whether he should change clothes at all. After all they were not going out on a date. He didn’t want Dean to think that he got all dolled up for him. He finally decided to wear his favorite t-shirt, a blue _Doctor Who_ one, and a black hoodie. Nothing special, really.

He was just brushing his teeth (not a date, though, he generally liked having fresh breath), when Gabriel popped into the room.

“You’re having a date, huh?”

“Uh, no…”

“Come on, you’re not fooling me. You made your hair again. Who’s it? Rapunzel? Come on, you’ve got a crush on the guy, right?”

“How d’you know – how d’you know I’m gay?” Cas inquired bewildered, tooth brush left forgotten in his hand.

He looked at his brother, who was grinning broadly.

“Oh, Cassie, I always knew. Right from the day you were born. I saw your cute little face and thought ‘yeah, totally gay’.”

“What?!” Cas spit out.

“I was just joking, kiddo,” Gabriel said with a laugh, “I had no idea. So he _really_ is your date?”

“No,” Cas said with a sigh, “He’s not.”

“So, where are you going tonight?”

“We – that’s me and Rapunzel – I mean Dean – we are having dinner. But it’s _not_ a date.”

“Oh, you’re just _bros_ , yeah, I get it.”

The way Gabriel pronounced it, it sounded like he didn’t believe him in the slightest. Castiel glared at him. Gabe laughed and left, presumably to the fridge.

“Be sure to use protection!” he called from the corridor.

“I’m not having sex with Dean!”

 

When it was the time Dean had said he would come, Cas was sitting nervously on the couch. Gabriel had gone, too. He said something about going to some college chick’s party.

“Call me if there’s anything, okay, kiddo?”

Cas nodded absent-minded.

When the doorbell rang, Cas hurried over to the door.

“Hello, Dean,” he said breathless.

“Hey, Cas. You ready to go?”

Cas nodded again. He locked the door and off they went.

 

The waitress was only a few years older than them. She had light pink hair tied to a ponytail that was see-sawing while she walked in front of them to have them seated.

They were led to a cozy booth with the typical red leather benches. They sat down on each side.

“Here are the menus,” she said in a cheery voice, “Take your time, I’ll be back in a sec.”

They both picked up their menus and studied them a bit more thoroughly than they would normally have done, so that they didn’t have to say anything. When Cas shifted in his seat to get in a more comfortable position, his feet touched Dean’s. Dean winced slightly and Cas withdrew his legs with a jerk.

To his relief this was when the waitress returned.

“What can I getcha?” she asked, looking from one of them to the other.

Dean indicated that Cas should order first.

“Um, I’ll take the cheese burger,” Cas said without much thought, “and a coke, please.”

“Same for me,” Dean said, when the waitress turned toward him, “with extra bacon, though and the sausages.”

“Excellent choice!” she cheered.

They handed her the menus and when she took Dean’s she gave him a large smile.

 

They didn’t know what to talk about at first. Castiel looked out of the window to the dark parking lot and Dean was fumbling with the pepper caster.

“What’s that thing on your t-shirt?” Dean asked after some awkward minutes.

“This?” Cas asked sheepishly and looked down, as if he had forgotten what he was wearing. “Um, it’s a _Doctor Who_ fan shirt.”

Dean gave him a quizzical look.

“Is that the Chinese version of _Dr Sexy MD_?” he asked.

“What the hell is _Dr Sexy MD_?!” Cas asked.

“I asked you first,” Dean said quickly.

“It’s this British TV show. It’s science-fiction. Well, kind of.”

“So, you like science-fiction?”

“Yeah, some of it.”

“Me too,” Dean replied, “So, what’s this show about? The Queen drinking tea in space?”

Castiel didn’t laugh. No one messed with his favorite shows.

“No, not exactly. The main character is this alien, the Doctor. He’s got a time-machine slash spaceship. It looks like a blue phone box.” Castiel pointed at his shirt to prove his point. “He travels through time and space with his human companions and they have all sorts of adventures and he saves people and does genocide and stuff. You should watch it some time.”

Cas had talked very fast and Dean didn’t catch most of it. He didn’t mind too much, though.

“Yeah, I will,” he answered vaguely.

A glow had appeared in Castiel’s deep blue eyes. Dean loved it when people talked about the things they liked. It didn’t matter what they were saying but the happiness shining on their faces was like a free gift. That’s why he didn’t mind Charlie rambling about _Star Wars_ so often. Sure, he liked it, too, but when it came to the names of all of Padmé Amidala’s maids his interest was rather limited. But when Charlie talked about it (well, maybe not at this random fact of trivia, but something of the sort), her eyes glittered – and now Cas’ eyes did the same. They said eyes were the door to the soul or something. Cas’ eyes were puzzling, just like Cas himself. He never revealed much about himself, unless he was asked directly. That he didn’t talk so much was a pity, Dean thought, because his voice was rather pleasant.

Dean was so lost in thought about Cas that he jumped a little when Cas said: “I like _your_ shirt.”

“I’m Batman,” Dean said smiling, “Just without the gay companion. Yet.”

Cas tilted his head in confusion. Dean bit on his tongue. What the hell was he saying?!

“Batman and Robin?!”

“Sorry, I’m not so familiar with comics,” Cas said.

“Uh, forget it, doesn’t matter, anyway.”

But now they were talking. Mainly about the stuff they liked, nothing too personal yet. Dean told Cas that he was learning how to play the guitar. Castiel was impressed.

“I don’t know how to do _anything_ ,” he said with a sigh. “When I was a kid I wanted to do skateboarding like my brother Gabriel. I stood on a board for about three seconds then I fell down and my knees were a bloody mess. I decided to never _ever_ skateboard again.”

The mention of falling reminded Dean of their conflict.

Dean guiltily cleared his throat and then he asked subdued: “How are your hands?”

Cas put them on the table, palms facing the ceiling. There were just thin lines on them. They didn’t hurt anymore.

Dean traced one of the lines with his index finger, not looking at Cas. Cas was internally screaming. What was happening?

 

When their waitress – her name plate said _Holly_ – put their fully laden plates in front of them, Dean was no longer touching his hands.

“Enjoy your meal,” she said. She turned toward Dean again and added: “If there’s anything else I can get you, just ask.”

She winked flirtatiously. Dean chuckled, clearly used to female attention. Cas picked up one of the fries that were served with the burger and said in a what he hoped was a manly-buddy-ish way: “She wants ya bad...”

Dean grinned.

“I know. But this is _our_ date, hon,” he replied in a playful tone.

Castiel felt the blood creeping up in his face. Hastily he picked up his burger with his bare hands, embracing his inner uncivilized American, to conceal his reddening cheeks. He took a large bite. Dean copied him.

The burger truly was amazing. Dean hadn’t lied when he had gushed about the place. The meat was medium, the lettuce was still crisp and the bread was firm. The cheese hadn’t melted completely. It was in perfect symbioses with the tomatoes. All in all it was a perfect cheese burger.

Castiel chewed on it with a blissful smile. The tastes mingled on his tongue and he moaned satisfied.

Dean stopped chewing and looked at him in wide-eyed surprise.

“It’s just… these make me very happy. Burgers, I mean,” Cas apologized.

When Dean’s mouth was fit for speaking he said: “I know, _foodgasm_! Sam mocks me all the time for it, but I mean, why hide your love for greasy junk food? I mean whatever floats your boat, right?”

And as if to bottom line all this, he bit into his burger, with closed eyes and made the most perfect _happy noise_ Cas had ever heard. He shifted in his seat. _Breathe, Castiel_.

He sipped at his coke. Dean was looking at him again. Castiel licked the sugary liquid from his lower lip, in what he hoped was an erotic way.

Dean tried hard not to grin again. Instead he raised one of his eye-brows, picked up a fork and speared one of his sausages.

“Hey, Cas, you wanna taste my wiener?” he asked in a seductively lowered voice.

Cas choked on his coke.

“Don’t spill your juice out so quick, lover boy,” Dean said, now laughing, too.

There was just a bit left of Cas’ burger and looking at it he said “I want you inside me” and stuffed it into his mouth.

 

Dean paid their bill – he insisted, it was an apology after all – and they left the diner. Dean had his arm around Cas’ shoulders and they were giggling all over the way to the Impala.

“Dude, that was the most fun I had in ages!” Dean proclaimed.

Cas was happy.

 

_  
_

 


	11. Clarence and Megatron

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No worries, Metatron is not going to be in this chapter.

“Guess, I see you tomorrow then,” Dean stated when they halted in front of the Novaks’ apartment.

Cas smiled in response.

“See you.”

He slipped out of the car and went to the door. At the steps he glanced back and caught Dean observing him. The Winchester grinned awkwardly and started the motor.

Cas marched upwards. Gabriel wasn’t home yet. Castiel wasn’t surprised. It was after all only shortly after nine.

Nonetheless Cas changed in his pajamas and snuggled under his blanket. He picked up a book, but it was no use; he read the first sentence for a couple times without getting any meaning out of it.

Dean Winchester had enjoyed his company! He had genuinely seemed to like him. Castiel still couldn’t believe it. Hell, he liked him, too. Not only his optical characteristics, he meant. The way he had lowered his voice had sent shivers all the way down his spine. He had been _dirty talking,_ for heaven’s sake. Cas, too. There was something about Dean that made him feel comfortable – even after what happened between them. He had called him _lover boy_ and he had fucking _moaned._

Cas checked his cell for new messages. Not that he was expecting any, but after that one incident where he had lost Gabe in a mall, he wanted to make sure.

There was a message; not from his brother, though. It was a text from Anna.

 

_how did it go??_

It said there. Cas typed a reply. He was not good with the small keys, so it took him some time.

 

_It went really ok. I’ll tell you tomorrow._

Only seconds later his phone rang.

“Tell me now!” Anna commanded.

And Cas did. He spared out some details, however. He just told her that it had been awkward at first and that eventually they had gotten along pretty well. Cas had kept his _feelings_ for Dean to himself before and he wasn’t going to tell Anna just now. He trusted her to keep her mouth shut, but they had just reunited and Cas didn’t know what exactly he was feeling for Dean and he wasn’t really in the mood to discuss it all. Anna loved discussing things. He wasn’t quite sure how Anna felt about Dean, either.

“So, you forgive him?” Anna inquired.

“Meh, let’s say I give him a second chance,” Cas answered thoughtfully, “He really seems sorry and he went through a lot of shit lately, I guess.”

 

* * *

 

Cas was looking forward to lunch break. He had seen Dean briefly in the morning. He had been very friendly, almost treating him like a friend. He had patted his back and wished him and his brother a good day. Cas was thinking about the day before. So, great, Dean liked him. But was there a possibility for Dean to like-like him? He knew that Dean had had things with girls. Bisexuality actually was a thing, though. Was there a way to find out if there had been boys in Dean’s past, too? He could ask Anna. She probably would be able to give him a satisfying answer, but she would ask questions. Even if Dean was interested in boys, what was he going to do? Ask him out? And this time for real?

Castiel didn’t pay much attention to the morning classes. So he was caught in surprise when his lab partner addressed him.

“Did you hear that?” she asked in her nasal voice.

“What…?” he asked with a blank expression.

“We are supposed to do this together.”

She pointed at the ingredients to an experiment that lay on their table. How had they gotten there? He couldn’t remember the teacher giving them out.

“Uh, okay.”

 

When they had finished the experiment – it was a rather unspectacular one involving a potato – Cas was writing their report.

“Meg, that’s short for Megan, isn’t it?” he asked, when he wrote their names on the paper.

“No, Clarence, it’s short for Megatron,” she snapped.

“It’s Castiel…”

“Yes, and it’s Meg. Simply Meg.”

Most students were still working, or pretending to do so. Cas and Meg were not talking to each other. It was just before the bell rang that she asked: “Are you going to Ruby’s party?”

She walked him to the teacher’s desk were he handed the paper over.

“I wasn’t invited to a party…” Cas said.

“Oh, it’s not that kind of party,” Meg said, “It’s a _my-parents-are-rich-and-I’m-home-alone-for-the-weekend-so-let’s-have-a-house-party_ -party. Which means that, basically, everyone is invited.”

“Oh,” Cas replied stupidly.

He had never been to a party were everyone was invited. He had thought those only existed in the movies.

“So, you comin’?” she wanted to know.

“I don’t know,” Cas answered honestly.

This was the point where Sam was joining them.

“But you’ll come, aren’t you, Sasquatch?” she asked, poking him in the ribs.

“What?”

“ _Ruby_ is hosting a party. The weekend after next. Surprised _you_ don’t know.”

The way she was pronouncing things it was clear that she, too, had noticed how Sam was gazing at her during classes.

“I, well, maybe I’ll come. What about you, Cas?”

“Well, okay, maybe.”

“Fantastic.”

When they reached the cafeteria, Meg left them. She joined said Ruby on a table. The black-haired girl asked her a few questions and then quickly looked over to Sam, who was turning his head just in time to avoid her eyes.

 

“Since when are you talking to Meg Masters?” Dean asked his younger brother.

He looked after the brunette, frowning. He couldn’t stand this Meg. There was something arrogant about her. _You can’t stand anyone_ , Lisa had once said. Although she was probably right about that, Dean still had his reasons for disliking the girl. Sam and Meg had been in elementary together and one bright summer afternoon they had decided to run away together. Sam had found a dog and John hadn’t let him keep it. Sam had been pissed. So he had decided to run away. It had happened while Dean was supposed to look after Sam. Sam had returned the same evening, but Dean got yelled at anyway.

“I wasn’t talking to her,” Sam said defensively.

“Yeah, I see.”

Sam was displaying a bitch-face that made Dean sigh.

“She talked to me _and Cas_. About Ruby’s party.”

“You know Meg?” Dean addressed Cas, a bit more gruff than intended.

“No. I – I mean, yes. She’s my lab partner,” Cas answered hastily, watching Dean heedfully as if he was expecting Dean to flip out again. “Our teacher is making us sit next to a girl. I didn’t choose to sit next to her.”

Guilt was creeping up in Dean again.

“Hey, man, it’s alright. You can talk to whomever you want.”

 

They sat down on their usual spot. Soon they were joined by the members of _Colt_ : Becky, Chuck and Kevin, a ninth grader with a helmet of jet-black hair, who was accompanied by his girlfriend Channing.

Becky pulled out bright blue envelopes and handed them to her fellow “journalists” and Cas. They all gave her a puzzled look. Dean thought he knew what she was aiming at. Jo had always given out the invitations to her birthday parties that way. Once they had been bright pink with kittens on it. It was an interesting contrast to the location where the party had taken place: the Harvelles’ _Roadhouse_ , a slightly gloomy establishment, with lots of patina. For Jo’s birthday Ellen had always closed the bar for a day. She had made the most marvelous cakes and had generously allowed the kids to turn the place upside down while the jukebox was playing tunes. He had adored those parties.

And Dean was proven right, because soon Becky declared: “These are birthday invitations. I promise it’s gonna be _awesome_!”

Sam looked rather not so enthusiastic. Cas seemed surprised to be invited, too. He shared a look with Dean, a non-verbal _Why would anyone invite me?_ Dean could not help but smile at him.

“It’s next Wednesday. And Chuck here has cancelled our _Colt_ meeting so you can all come. And feel free to bring someone.”

She looked around, cheeks red with excitement. She was trying so hard to make friends. Maybe that’s why she had so few, Dean thought. She was trying too hard. But who was he to judge? He had about three friends himself. He was sitting at lunch with his baby brother’s friends, for heaven’s sake.

Cas on the other hand had made a whole bunch of friends in the short time he was here. Sam liked him a lot, Charlie liked him, he was talking to Meg Masters, and Becky had invited him to her birthday… Everyone seemed to love the guy as soon as they met him. Well, there was something about him. He was funny. You had to tickle him, figuratively speaking, but if you did, you found humor and irony and _wit._ Dean found himself lost for words around him. Everything he wanted to say was not clever enough. He’d never had a problem with making dumb jokes. But he didn’t want Cas to think he was dumb, _too_.

“Are you gonna bring someone?” Sam asked Cas.

Cas shrugged and then, Dean was surely imagining this, wasn’t he?, he looked at Dean, blushing.


	12. Courage

“How are you holding up, Cassie-dear?” his mother asked on the phone.

“I’m great, Mom,” he answered.

“Really?”

“Yeah, really. There’s no need to sound so surprised,” Castiel said.

Amelia Novak laughed on the other end of the line.

“Have you made any friends?” she asked charily.

Castiel made a confirming noise.

“Sam and Dean Winchester. They are brothers. Sam’s in my grade and Dean’s a bit older.”

“That’s nice.”

“And I’m invited to a girl’s birthday party next week.”

“That’s nice,” she repeated.

“Yes, it is.”

“How’s your brother?”

“He’s baking a cake as we speak, shall I get him on the phone?”

 

* * *

 

“Winchester,” Dean said when picking up the phone.

“Dean, you are going to invite Jo to come,” Charlie’s voice sounded from the other end of the line.

“I’m going to invite Jo to come,” Dean repeated, “Wait, what?”

“To our sleepover. I want you to invite her.”

“And why would I do that?”

“Because you are my best friend and really concerned about my happiness and satisfaction of needs,” Charlie responded.

“She’s not into girls, Charlie!”

“How do you know that? Leave that to me, alright? You should at least give me a chance… And maybe she’ll get over you if you let me.”

Dean growled. Maybe she had a point, though.

“I take that as a Yes. So, did you ask Castiel?” Charlie wanted to know.

“Not yet.”

“It’s tomorrow.”

“I know, man. I just didn’t have the –”

“Courage?”

“- chance to ask him. It’s not that way, Charlie! I just forgot to ask. Cas and I are just buddies. I mean I just met him, practically. I don’t even know the guy. Sam likes him. So I figured why not invite him, okay?”

Charlie laughed.

“Just because _you_ are gay -”

“I’m just _also_ very concerned about your happiness, Dean,” Charlie interrupted him in a falsely serious tone, “See you tomorrow, then.”

 

* * *

 

That afternoon, Sam and Cas met at the Novaks’ apartment to get some work done on their history presentation on the Gettysburg Address.

“Are you bringing anyone to Becky’s birthday?” Sam asked while they were looking for a nice picture of Abraham Lincoln.

“I’m bringing Anna,” Cas answered, “What about you?”

“Who am _I_ supposed to bring?” Sam asked sarcastically.

“What about Ruby?” Cas asked tentatively.

“No. Hell, no.”

“Why not? I mean you’re not exactly shy, like me.”

“Yeah, maybe,” Sam admitted, “but… She doesn’t like me. Me and Ruby is not gonna happen.”

Castiel gave him a questioning look. He didn’t want to press Sam, but he was curious. Was this a simple case of unrequited love or was there something more to it? It seemed to be common knowledge that Sam had a thing for Ruby. Meg had known. And Cas, who was the new kid, had noticed, too. Sam sighed.

“I know her since middle school. She used to be quite different. She was blonde for starters. She was always a bit difficult, you know. We were sort of hanging out in ninth grade. I think she felt quite lonely sometimes. She’s an only child and her parents are often in Hong Kong or someplace. She changed a lot since then. Started hanging out with Crowley, this kid called Az and your cousin Luc. She’s not interested in me anymore. She’s been really unfriendly toward me. Guess we were not meant to be. She’s a badass and I’m a friggin’ freak.”

“No, you’re not,” Castiel said, aiming to comfort, “I think you’re pretty cool, anyway.”

“Thanks for saying that. I feel like it quite often, though. Being the clever kid isn’t always that easy… but I guess you know that.”

They fell silent, avoiding each other’s eye. It was awkward in a way. Sam had confided in Cas and Cas had told him that he liked him; they were both happy, yet embarrassed.

Gabriel came to their rescue. He walked in, carrying two boxes of pizza in his arms and wearing a large black mustache. A grin appeared on his face as he mustered Cas’ classmate.

“Sam, this is my brother Gabriel who is, for no apparent reason, wearing a fake mustache,” Cas introduced him and added: “Why were you wearing a fake mustache again?”

“It’s, uh, for an _art project_ ,” he answered evasively.

He placed the card board boxes onto the kitchen counter.

“So, you are the famous Sam,” Gabe declared, “You look even better than what I pictured after seeing Rapunzel.”

“What?” Sam stammered, both confused and taken aback by the blunt compliment, “Rapunzel? Do you mean the hair…?”

“No. He means Dean. Gabe, it’s _Dean_ , how often do I have to tell you?!”

Gabe replied by rolling his eyes.

“I didn’t know you were coming over, Sam, that’s why I got only two pizzas. Guess that means we have to _share_ , then,” he said with a wink.

Cas buried his face in his hands. His. Brother. Was. So. Embarrassing. Only Gabe could make something so innocent sound so dirty.

As they ate their first slices of pizza, Gabriel asked: “Um, Cassie, you don’t mind me having a couple of friends over for tomorrow night, do you? It’s for this art project.”

“No, I don’t mind,” Cas assured him.

“It’s just, it could get _really loud_ and I really don’t want to bother you…”

“It’s fine.”

Gabriel looked down on his plate, apparently trying to find the right words between the pepperoni and cheese.

“You could stay with us, Cas,” Sam said slowly who had gotten the hint, “We’re having a _Back to the future_ marathon. Dean asked me to invite you anyway. You’re into time traveling, aren’t you?”

Gabriel looked at Sam with newfound admiration, but luckily Cas didn’t notice. _Dean asked me to invite you_. Dean. Dean!

“I would love to,” Cas breathed.

“Cool. We’re having a gigantic sleepover. Charlie’s coming, too, and Jo and Ash. You’ll like them.”

He was not going to be the only one? He was disappointed. For a moment he had thought that he was something special. But it seemed that Dean had invited quite a lot of people. He had to think positive, though. He was going to spend more time with him. That was something, right?

When Sam had left, Cas cleared the table. Gabe was sitting lazily on the couch. He had rid himself of the mustache.

“He’s a handsome fella, your Sam,” he stated.

“He is _fifteen_ , Gabe, _fifteen_!” Castiel said warningly.

“Hey, bro, calm down. A girl can dream, right?”

Cas glared at him.

“Am I sensing jealousy here? And a love triangle maybe, Cassie?” Gabriel teased, “You and the Winchester boys? Cause that would be really naughty. Wasn’t expecting that from you.”

“Your senses are wrong, ‘kay?” Cas answered hotly, “Sam and me are just friends. It’s just Dean -”

“It _is_ Dean, then?”

“No. I hate you.”

 


	13. Truth or Dean

The evening turned out to be really nice.

Cas had been really nervous when he approached the Winchester house. It was located at the end of a sandy drive way, framed by a couple dark conifers. The setting sun had made the façade look a light shade of orange. It was a small two story building, without a porch and only one step in front of the door. The yellow grass in the yard was knee high. A rusty set of swings had swayed creepily in the evening breeze. Just like his neighborhood it looked old, authentic, organic even. The house had reminded him of Dean, rough but affectionate. He couldn’t imagine him living anywhere else.

 

* * *

 

The ice had broken over a match of _Twister_. Sam had been using some exquisite swearwords, when he crashed onto the floor. Ash had been the only one who had refused to play.

“I leave that to the youth,” he had said, “You kids have fun.”

Dean and Charlie had bought a lot of unhealthy snacks beforehand – popcorn and marshmallows and ice-cream and licorice and everything imaginable.

They lay lazily in Sam’s room. Dean was the one with the TV set, but the six of them would never have fitted into his room. Sam’s was slightly roomier, so they had carried the screen to Sam’s room. The floor was laid-out with three mattresses. It was a big nest. They had carried all kinds of blankets into the room. Cas felt a bit like a dragon in a lair. After watching all three movies of _Back to the future_ , they changed into their sleep clothing. Jo was wearing a sweet white nightgown, Charlie an oversized Lord of the Rings t-shirt and shorts. The boys were all wearing t-shirt and boxers, except for Cas who was wearing a full-blown pajama. Nothing embarrassing. Just stripped trousers in light blue and a matching shirt. Still he felt a little uncool. Dean looked really good in his simple gray tee. He had looked even better without it.

“What now?” Ash asked.

At first Cas had been wondering which of the Winchesters’ friends was Ash and which was Jo. The names were not exactly unambiguous. Sam had been right, they were indeed likeable. Ash was a funny guy. His hair was a little weird, though. Jo seemed to be a family friend. They had encountered Mr Winchester in the living room. He was a bit intimidating. “Mom misses you at the _Roadhouse_ ,” she had said.

“I wanna braid someone’s hair,” Charlie declared.

“Start with Sam,” Dean joked.

Sam rolled his eyes. Jo however moved closer to Charlie, who combed almost reverentially though the girl’s golden hair.

“So, who’s for _truth or dare_?” she asked.

Dean groaned.

“Come on, Dean, it’s a classic,” Ash said.

“Yeah, but you have to be either ten or drunk to think it’s funny,” Dean stated disdainfully.

Cas was getting slightly nervous. His last sleepover had been ages ago. It had been an all-boys sleepover with a strict _no homo_ policy. They hadn’t been playing truth or dare. Because what _truth or dare_ usually meant was _awkward question versus kissing_. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to do either. Sure, he wanted to kiss Dean. But it front of everyone? Also he didn’t want to reveal all his secrets.

It was quite okay at the beginning. Sam and Dean were teasing each other by making them retell embarrassing stories from each other’s childhood. When Sam took _dare_ , Dean made him sing the Prince’s song from Disney’s _Snow White_. “C’mon, I know you know it by heart.”

They found out that Ash could ask the weirdest questions and Jo could pull the funniest faces.

“So, Charlie, who do you think is the hottest of us?” Dean asked with a wicked smile.

“What a question!” she asked, “This beautiful lady here of course.”

Jo blushed a little and gave Charlie a hug. Charlie wrapped her arms around her and didn’t let go of her. She winked behind her back.

“Cas, _truth or dare_?” she asked.

“Um, I, uh, _dare_.”

Charlie pretended to think of a task, glancing around. Cas anxiously watched her. He should have said _truth_.

“I dare you to… give Dean a kiss.”

Castiel looked at the boy sitting next to him. Dean looked as shocked as Cas felt. Castiel could feel his heart hammering against his ribs. He glanced at Charlie, who had Jo nuzzled up against her shoulder and wondered whether it was possible that she knew. How on earth could she know?

“Come on, guys!” Ash said impatiently, “Are we gonna see something, or not?”

Cas gulped. He was about to kiss Dean. Hell, he was about _to kiss_. He’d never kissed someone. At least no one he was attracted to the way he was attracted to Dean. The only kiss he had ever received had been from family members and one time a girl from his class had given him a little peck. That had been ages ago, however, and not really exciting.

He really wanted to kiss Dean, though. But like this?

Ash nudged him encouragingly.

 

Dean was petrified. He had thought that maybe Cas would back out. Or at least protest. He stayed immobile as Cas slowly drew closer. He had to remind himself to breathe. What was happening? It was not like Dean had never kissed a boy. He’d played enough _spin the bottle_. He had even kissed his own brother once in a game! Why was he suddenly so nervous?

Cas was not looking into his eyes. He was leaning forward, propped on his hands. For the first time he really noticed Cas’ lips. They were different to girls’ lips. Still they looked like a good kiss.

Dean could tell that Cas was really hesitant. He took his time, slowly moving toward him. Dean wished that he would hurry up a bit. Dean felt the sudden urge to close the distance between them. Just to get it over with, of course.

Eventually their lips met. Lightly they melted into each other. _It feels like being touched by a butterfly_ , Dean thought, intrigued. _That was gay. But then again I’m kissing another guy…_

Before he knew what he was doing, he opened his lips ever so slightly to take in more of those lips, more of Cas. It felt really nice; warm and soft. Castiel’s lips were a little chapped, but Dean didn’t mind the tiniest bit. _Better this than lip-gloss_ , he thought. Their noses were touching and Dean’s stubble was tickling Cas’ skin. Dean closed his eyes, for a split second forgetting that this was only a dare, that they were surrounded by people and that Cas probably didn’t even want this.

And sure enough, Cas pulled away, gently, but still he did. Dean didn’t admit it to himself, but he allowed it only reluctantly. As soon as his lips were gone he missed the warm touch.  Cas’ face was pink. He wasn’t looking at Dean after the kiss either. He fumbled with a corner of one of the blankets. Dean watched him intently. Was his face displaying something else than embarrassment? He wished Cas would say something. Hadn’t he liked the kiss? What did it even _matter_ if he had liked it or not? This was only a part of a silly game on a silly sleepover. Still it felt like Cas had just turned him down. Him, Dean Winchester, the king of kissing. That hurt. But no way he would let Cas see how much it hurt.

“Yeah, nothing beats _truth or dare_ ,” Dean said dully, stretching and yawning with ostentation.

 

* * *

 

“Can we turn out the lights, now?” Sam asked, sounding tired, “I have to get up quite early tomorrow.”

They agreed that it was a good idea. Sam stomped to the light switch. The room became dark instantly. Sam was carefully getting back to his place, trying not to step on any of them. They were all grabbing blindly for a blanket. Cas was lying on the lengthwise mattress. Next to him was Dean. Somehow they had managed to slip under the same blanket. It was a rather large one, however, so Cas didn’t bother to find himself another. He was careful not to touch Dean, though.

He was not sure how to feel about the kiss. It had felt good, really, really good, but he refrained himself from feeling too giddy. It had just been a game. Charlie had made him do it. It was not like Dean had signalized him _kiss me, please_. And although he had almost been exploding with happiness when they had kissed, he had pulled away. He hadn’t wanted to make Dean uncomfortable. He hadn’t wanted to raise suspicion. It was stupid, really. He finally had the chance to show Dean how he felt about him, but he didn’t take it because he was afraid. Afraid of rejection. Afraid of ridicule. Afraid of ostracism, even.

His eyes were slowly adjusting to the darkness. He could faintly see the outline of the giant world map that was pinned over Sam’s abandoned bed. There was a little a red flag sticking in Canada. Sam had once told him that one day he wanted to travel. After high school, or college. Someday, at any rate.

The others were budging until they found a comfortable position. Next to Dean lay Jo, huddled against her was Charlie, then came Sam and next to the edge, Ash. Cas was lying close to the edge, too. He moved a little to the right to make sure he wouldn’t slip off, even if that meant moving closer to Dean. He closed his eyes. He should try to sleep.

It wasn’t that easy, however. The kiss was repeating before his mind’s eye like an animated gif.

Cas didn’t know how long exactly he was lying awake. He listened to Ash’s quiet snore, the rustling of Sam’s sheet as he was tossing and turning and Dean’s occasional mumbling. He couldn’t really understand what he was saying, but he thought it was rather cute. He wondered what the Winchester was dreaming about. Dean was moving in his sleep, too. Sometime he rolled away from Cas, tugging the blanket under his body. Now Cas’ side was exposed. He gently pulled at the fabric, not wanting to wake Dean up. It didn’t work. Cas lay there for a while but his left leg was becoming cold. He sighed. He had no choice, right? He moved closer to Dean. It felt good to be covered up again. Dean was radiating a pleasant warmth and unconsciously Cas was moving even closer. Their backs were now touching. In this comfortable position, Cas was finally drifting into sleep.

 

* * *

 

Sam’s alarm clock rang. It was a horrible noise and Sam hurriedly turned it off so the others wouldn’t wake up. He was not a hundred percent successful. Ash was groaning, but didn’t open his eyes.

“What’s this about?” Charlie mumbled.

“You can go back to sleep,” Sam whispered.

He cursed his decision to join the team. The weekend was made for sleeping in, not to get up early and let oneself be slain on the green battlefields of soccer.

He got up, unraveling the blankets. Charlie was getting up, too.

“Toilet,” she explained.

She was on her way to the door when she stopped. Sam followed her gaze. She was looking at his brother and at Cas. The two of them very in an almost loving embrace. One of Dean’s legs was sprawled possessively over Cas, who in turn, had a hand resting at Dean’s hip. Sam exchanged a surprised look with Charlie. She was smiling.

“They’re so cute together, aren’t they?”

“Hem, if you say so…”


	14. Sleeping Beauty

Cas was in a state between dreaming and being awake. He didn’t realize he had woken up though. Because what could possibly feel that way? So nicely warm and cozy, sunlight shining red trough his eyelids… A musky smell filling his nostrils, a mixture of manly deodorant and sweat. He soaked it in. This was… _heaven_.

He moved closer to what he believed was the source of all this. He felt soft skin and fabric, a body moving slightly with every breath.

Dean felt Cas’ hair tickling against his neck. He lay motionless, anxious not to wake Cas up. Having the other boy so close to him, it should’ve felt wrong – weird at least. But it didn’t. It felt good, hell, did it feel good. Just like the night before when they were kissing.

 _This is ridiculous!_ Dean thought, _I’m not gay!_                                        

What would Cas say if he knew what he was thinking? What he felt for him? What he _felt_ for him?!He wasn’t feeling a damn thing for Cas! Cas was just super cute and gosh, he had nice lips and he smelled good and had a hot voice and a gorgeous smile. He was _totally_ not gay though. It wasn’t possible, he’d never felt that way about a guy. Why should he now? He was too sleepy to wonder about that just now, however.

Both boys dozed off for a while – happier than they had been for a long while.

 

* * *

 

Dean was woken up by the smell of coffee and female laughter. He reluctantly opened his eyes. Cas lay next to him, spread-eagled. He smiled at the view, because Cas was _smiling_ in his sleep. Ash and the girls had already gotten up. Dean followed the voices and found the three of them at the kitchen table, joined by Kate, who was already wearing her mint green nurse outfit.

“Oh, you’re awake, too,” Kate said, “That’s good, because I’m now leaving. As you can see your friends have made themselves at home already.”

She didn’t say it in a disapproving tone, still Dean was annoyed.

“So did you,” he mouthed.

 “I’ve got to go, too,” Ash announced with a sigh, “Work.”

“You mean you’re screwing with computers,” Jo said.

“Ha ha.”

“And what are you doing today?” Charlie asked Jo.

She seemed surprised about the question, but in a pleasant way. She shrugged. Damn, maybe Charlie was right and she had a chance with Jo. He had been hundred percent sure that she was straight.

Dean wasn’t listening to Charlie who was proposing several activities. He sipped absent-minded at his coffee and stared outside. The sun was vanishing behind a front of dirty gray clouds. It had looked so nice and sunny, like a real summer day. He had thought that maybe he could show Cas the Ruins, that they could stick their toes into the water of the little lake. If he wanted to spend the afternoon with him. He was after all rather Sam’s guest than his. Sam would soon be home again and would want to shower and then probably _study_ or something. Maybe they’d even planned to study together. Those nerds.

He wasn’t even sure if he wanted Cas to be around all day. They had _kissed_ for heaven’s sake. He didn’t know why that was an issue, but it was. Cas had acted so awkward afterward, blushing like mad and avoiding his eyes. He had been pretty silent, too. Dean hadn’t mentioned it. He hadn’t wanted to make Cas even more uncomfortable. That was the problem. Why did Cas feel so frigging uncomfortable? Couldn’t he just laugh it off and act normal?!

He had thought that Cas liked him. Why was it such a big issue? Had a silly game ruined a potential friendship between them?

“Hey, Dean, you okay?” Charlie asked, worry in her eyes.

“Whu- yeah, sure. Where’s Jo gone?”

“She’s upstairs, getting dressed,” Charlie replied with a grin, “You’ve really zoned out, haven’t you?”

Dean made an unmeaning grunt.

“Is it because of yesterday?” she asked.

Dean remained silent. Charlie either had the second sight or she was just really good at guessing. She always asked the uncomfortable questions.

“Hey, it’s totally cool if you like him,” she assured him.

“I never said I _liked_ him.”

“Yes, but you kinda get these bright eyes when he walks into the room. It’s like you’re Éowyn and he’s Aragorn and he’s just come back from battle or something. Except I’m sure you’re his Arwen. I mean, what I’m getting at is: please, give him a chance. Give _yourself_ a chance, okay?”

“You’re nuts,” Dean declared, setting down his mug of coffee a little bit too quickly, “You’re nuts, Charlie. I’m not a she-elf and as far as I know Cas isn’t the fucking King of Gondor -”

“That’s so not my point!”

“Just stop being a match-maker!” Dean huffed, “It’s complicated enough without you ‘cupid-ing’ around the place.”

Charlie sighed.

 

* * *

 

When Cas was finally coming down, the girls had left the house, too. Cas lingered in the doorway, his hair all messy, his eyes still a little puffy.

“Hello, Dean,” he greeted, sounding sleepy.

“Morning, _Sleeping Beauty_ ,” Dean answered, immediately regretting his life choices.

Why did he always have to make such stupid jokes when Cas was around? Comparing him to a princess, what was he thinking? Now Cas must be thinking that he wanted to be his fucking prince or something. Cas didn’t show much of a reaction. His cheeks had become a little rosier perhaps. He was walking over to him, sitting down. Dean followed his movements. _Éowyn,_ his inner Charlie whispered.

 

When Sam came home after his soccer match, he heard voices from the kitchen. He left his bag in the hallway – well aware how much his father hated this. It was Cas and Dean, sitting at the kitchen table, opposite of each other. They were both still in their pajamas.

“Others all gone?” Sam asked and sat down next to Cas.

“Yeah, Ash’s gotta work,” Dean answered, “and Charlie has kid-napped Jo.”

While having a second breakfast Sam watched Cas and his brother interact. _They’re so cute together, aren’t they?_ Charlie had said. Her statement had perplexed him. It had made him wondering. It had been Charlie who had dared Cas to kiss Dean. The ginger girl was Dean’s best friend and as far as he knew he told her everything. Did she know something he didn’t? It was absurd, though, wasn’t it? Dean- _I-dig-chicks_ had a crush on a boy? It wasn’t the first time that Dean hit on a friend of Sam’s, but a boy – that would be new!

 

* * *

 

Cas stayed until three, then he left. He wouldn’t have minded to stay longer, but it felt inappropriate. Adding to this, he had to finish his English assignment. Both Winchester brothers walked him to the door.

“See ya, tomorrow,” Dean said.

 _I can’t wait_ , Cas thought.


	15. I like tall men.

Cas wanted to tell her so badly. All his thoughts were circling around the weekend. He wasn’t sure, however, how she felt about Dean. There had been something between the two of them, some time ago now, but still. Anna had sounded a bit sad when she had told him about it. _I mean he probably doesn’t even remember it_ , she had lamented. So discussing the kiss with her and everything thereafter wasn’t really an option. He wanted to talk to someone about it, but who? He couldn’t talk to Sam about it. That would be weird. He didn’t want to talk to his own brother about it. He teased him enough. There was no-one else he felt close enough to.

So when Anna asked him how his weekend had been, Cas simply answered “Quite okay.”

Cas wasn’t nervous when he arrived at school. The prospect of seeing Dean again made him happy.

At the entrance however stood only Sam. His heart sank into his boots. He dared not to ask Sam were Dean was. Was he avoiding him? He had thought that Dean hadn’t minded their little tête-à-tête. He hadn’t even mentioned it afterward. For him it had been just another kiss from just another person in just another game. Dean was that way. Anna was living proof.

These thoughts didn’t lighten up his mood, either. He was sulking all morning. He tried not to let it on. Sam was either sensitive enough not to ask him what was bothering him, or he didn’t notice.

“Well, aren’t you a ray of sunshine,” Meg stated sarcastically during biology.

Cas didn’t answer.

“Have you thought about Ruby’s party then?”

“About nothing else,” Cas snapped.

“Oh, right, you’ve got sass, too,” she replied. “Are you coming?”

“Yes. I figured I’d come,” Cas answered, still sounding gloomy.

“Very enthusiastic. Yet, you surprise me, Clarence. I thought you’d back out,” she said and added: “What will you be?”

“Pardon?” Cas asked, forgetting for a moment that he was miserable.

Meg could barely conceal her amusement.

“Oh, didn’t I mention? It’s a fancy dress party.”

“What!?”

Mrs Weintraub frowned at him.

“What?” he repeated in a lowered voice.

“You have to dress up. Masquerades, you know? It’ll be fun, I promise.”

“I don’t even know where Ruby lives,” Cas said.

He didn’t sign up for his! He was not going to embarrass himself in front of people. It had cost a lot of self-conviction for him to agree to come at all.

“Don’t worry, I’m gonna pick you up.”

 

“Did you know that Ruby’s party is a fancy dress party?” Cas asked Sam, when they were heading for lunch.

“Heard of it. I thought Meg had told you.”

“Yeah, she did. Just now.”

 

When Dean joined their table he acted like he had before the weekend; friendly, but not as cordial as he had during the slumber party. Cas knew it was ridiculous but he felt hurt. Sunday morning new hope had arisen in him.

Dean had let him cuddle with him. He’d been asleep but he had thought that maybe Dean had felt it and had gone with it. It seemed foolish that he’d ever believed that. He felt a little guilty. Dean probably wouldn’t have wanted it, he thought. He’d just snuggled against him without his consent.

Cas had helped the brothers to restore their bedrooms to their original state. Dean had played him some of his favorite songs. Cas couldn’t say he liked them _particularly_ but he was enchanted by the gesture. Dean had presented him something that was important to him and Cas had felt honored. Why had Dean done that, letting Cas get to know him better, only to push him away again?

 

* * *

 

Cas was not really enthusiastic about going to Becky’s birthday. He’d been strolling through the mall most of Wednesday afternoon looking for a present. What did you give a girl you barely knew? In the end he settled for a gift card from the bookstore. Becky was writing stuff. Surely she’d be reading stuff, too.

Gabriel insisted he’d bring Cas. He wondered why he was suddenly so eager to be his chauffeur. Knowing his brother he probably didn’t want to know.

They picked up Anna on the way.

“Holy shit, Anna,” Gabriel said, as the red-haired girl slipped on the backseat next to Cas.

“You, too, Gabe,” she replied bewildered.

“You’ve become real hot, _gurl_ ,” he explained with a wink.

Cas groaned.

 

The Rosens were a lovely couple who seemed to love their daughter dearly. It seemed impossible for them to imagine that the guests were anything other than Becky’s best friends. They were only four of them. There was the adverse love triangle Sam-Becky-Chuck and Cas and Anna who wondered why on _earth_ they were there. Kevin, Becky told them, had excused himself. He had a very important cello practice to attend.

They had a slice of birthday cake (which wasn’t half bad after all) in Becky’s room. She had her walls plastered with posters. Most of them showed the image of two long haired, bare-chested men.

“The Harrisons,” she crooned, “I love them _so much_.”

And she explained how they were going to go to the theater later where the first ever _Supernatural_ anime would be shown.

“To be honest, I’ve never heard of _Supernatural_ ,” Cas admitted.

“Oh, it’s the best thing in the world,” Becky said.

Chuck nodded in agreement, Sam sighed.

“Initially, it’s a book series by Carver Edlund. It’s about two brothers, Jim and Dan Harrison. After their mom is killed by a demon, their father becomes a monster hunter and that’s the family business. And like hundred stories later they have to fight the Apocalypse and they are joined by this angel. And it’s really heart-breaking and stuff and it makes you cry a lot. They turned it into an anime. From what I’ve seen in the trailer Dan is not exactly how I pictured him, but Jim is _absolutely perfect_.”

 

Mr. Rosen drove them to the movie theater. They were crimped in the backseat of the Rosens’ van. Mr. Rosen’s fishing equipment was rattling in the trunk.

“Have fun, honey,” he wished his daughter as he let them out.

The small theater was full of people. There was a long line in front of the popcorn stand. Apparently people had come a long way to see the movie – Becky was always whining about how few _Supernatural_ fans there were in their town and now there seemed to be _loads_. Some of them were in costume. It was a little creepy, even. They had dimmed the lights and decorated the foyer with Halloween props.

Most people, Sam noticed, were girls. Becky bought their tickets, beaming. Sam had never seen her so genuinely happy. He looked around, inspecting the others. There were some blood-splattered faces, a lot of wigs and a guy in a unicorn costume.

Next to a life-size cardboard stand up of Jim Harrison stood a familiar figure. Sam needed a moment to realize who it was.

“Ruby?!” he cried out in surprise.

The girl seemed equally surprised to see him. Sam debated whether he should go talk to her. Normally they weren’t talking to each other. To ignore her now that she had noticed him didn’t seem to be a good option, though. He slowly walked to her.

“So, what are you doing here?” he asked nervously, trying to lean against Jim, who swayed dangerously in return.

Ruby smirked. He awkwardly stashed his hands in his jacket’s pockets.

“I… like tall men,” she said, nodding toward the cardboard stand up.

Sam chuckled abashed. He was almost glad when Becky appeared beside him and dragged him away.

“See you on Saturday!” she called after him.

 

* * *

 

The story was about a shape shifter that took the form of Dan Harrison. It would have been okay, if the English dubbing had been synchronous to the movements of the characters’ mouths. Anna’s frequent sassy comments made it worthwhile, however.

Becky, too, seemed a little disappointed.

“Yeah, the books were better,” Chuck said, patting her sympathetically on the back.

It was then when a loud voice called: “ _JimLicker81_?! Is that you?”

A look of absolute terror appeared on Becky’s face. She looked frenetically around, trying to make out the speaker. It was a young woman with short black hair and heavy eye-make up wearing a suit and a FBI badge.

“ _JimLicker81_?” she repeated when she was standing in front of them.

“Actually, it’s Becky,” Becky said quietly.

“I’m Alyssa,” she replied, “I think you know me as _theharrisonbusiness666_.”

All of the sudden, Becky was her old self.

“Oh my God, you are THE _theharrisonbusiness666_?”

“The very one.”

They got engaged in a conversation revolving around certain citrus fruits and Cas, Anna and Sam decided it would be best if they left now.

They went outside and to text their brothers.

 

Gabriel arrived first. He stepped out of the car and waved.

“Hey, Cassie, do you mind if I go in and grab myself some ice-cream before we go?”

Cas shrugged.

“Anyone else? Come on, Sam, you’re still growing,” he joked.

“Ha, ha,” Sam said with a dramatic eye-roll.

Gabriel vanished into the cinema to get himself a treat.

“Good Lord, I think my brother only came to pick me up so he could see you,” Cas sighed, half joking, half being serious.

“Yeah, mine too,” Sam replied and as if to illustrate his point Dean pulled over the Impala and leaned out of the window.

“Hey, Cas,” he called with a grin.


	16. Doctor Who? Doctor Sexy!

Meg turned up just at the time she had promised. Cas stepped out of the apartment quickly before Gabriel, who was lying lazily on the couch, got any fresh ideas on how to embarrass him.

Meg whistled.                                                     

“Hey, there, tax accountant,” she said.

“No, it’s actually… actually I’m a fictional character,” Cas said, fumbling with his outfit.

He was dressed as the tenth Doctor from _Doctor Who_. The costume wasn’t exactly elaborate, however. He had used pieces of clothing he already possessed. He was wearing the suit from his confirmation which was uncomfortably tight around his shoulders, a ghastly tie of Gabriel’s and his trench coat. He even had a pair of reading glasses that resembled the Doctor’s but he wasn’t wearing them currently because everything would be a blur if he was. He hadn’t been able to fix the tie straight – he wondered whether that was a metaphor.

Meg wore an outfit similar to the one Dean’s stepmother had been wearing. Except Meg’s was smeared in (what Cas hoped was) fake blood.

“So, a doctor and a nurse, eh?” Meg stated, wiggling with her eye brows.

Was that a flirtation? Meg was irritating him. She had right from the start. Why was she talking to him? Insisting he should come to this party? He didn’t have the impression that Meg was a philanthropist. She wasn’t really _nice_ to him either. She always bossed him around in biology and she had sort of talked him into coming. 

* * *

 

Soon Meg had left Cas aside. He didn’t really blame her. He was not good at conversation. He was standing a little on the side, watching the other party guests. He was sipping on the beer he hadn’t intended to drink, just to be occupied. He didn’t like the taste.

Bit by bit new guests arrived. There were several people from his classes. Some were barely recognizable in their costumes. Others were to be seen in normal clothing. A few people talked to him, but usually not longer than it took to say “Hi!” And after he had briefly explained his costume they left him to join their friends.

The music was blaring, although no-one seemed to be in the mood to dance yet. Only a few tapped their feet in time with the beat, everyone else shouted over the music, increasing the volume even more.

The alcohol levels were rising, too. Although most of the guests were only insignificantly older than Cas – and certainly not twenty-one – everyone was happily helping themselves to beer and whatever stood in the expensive looking kitchen.

Cas wondered why Sam hadn’t arrived yet. He had been pretending to be indifferent to the party but Cas had thought that Sam was secretly excited to come. It was after all _Ruby’s_ party. Cas checked his cell. One of the perks of his costume were the pockets.

No messages.

There was no-one he could talk to. Meg was talking to a red-haired girl in fifties attire. Just as he looked over to her, she turned toward him and gestured him to come over.

He gladly followed the invitation.

“Hey, Castiel, this is Abby,” she introduced her.

Abby’s red lips curled to a smile.

“So, you’re Luc’s cousin,” she stated, “Interesting.”

Castiel nodded dully. _Interesting?_ What was so interesting about that?

“He’s kind of a buddy of mine,” she explained and Castiel sighed in relief.

No hate then this time. Not everyone was like Dean.

“Good old Abby,” someone said, coming from behind.

It was none other than said cousin. They greeted him, Meg and Abby a bit more enthusiastic than Cas. He was surprised that Luc seemed to know Meg, too. Hell, did they all know each other? This was so weird. At his old school people barely knew each other’s names and here everyone seemed to be friend or foe. There seldom seemed to be something in between. 

“Anyone got a lighter? Forgot mine…” Luc asked.

 

They went outside for a cigarette and Cas was trotting after them, somehow thankful he was not standing alone in a corner anymore. Even that meant hanging out with Luc and his friends. They let him tag along but ignored him mostly. Apparently now that Luc was present, his little cousin wasn’t that interesting anymore.

It had cooled down outside and the sky had become a deep shade of purple. They were standing on a terrace in the stylish garden. A bee was smoking something that Cas suspected to be a joint.

“Any news about that person you like?” Luc asked parenthetically.

Meg turned her head in sudden curiosity.

“No,” Cas replied quickly, although it wasn’t quite true, of course.

He wondered if he should add “Don’t know whatcha talking about!” but he decided against it. That would sound like he had something to hide, which was the opposite of what he was trying to convey.

“ _Castiel_?” Meg asked, stretching his name.

He didn’t respond but emptied his bottle once and for all.

“I’m gonna… um, I’m gonna go inside, grab another beer,” he murmured.

Meg lifted an eyebrow.

He returned inside, realizing how stuffy it had become. He could feel Meg’s eyes following him through the glass-walls and was left with no other choice than to actually go to the kitchen.

He put his bottle on the little empty space that was left. Scattered across the kitchen counter were several bottles, many of them already empty, colorful plastic cups and bowls with chips and candy.

The sliding door that separated the kitchen from the extensive living room was half open; the orangey light that shone through it was the only illumination. The black marble kitchen floor shimmered slightly. Cas took a bowl with pretzel sticks, glided down to the floor and started eating. He checked his phone again. No new messages. He debated whether he should call Sam but he realized that he probably wouldn’t understand a word given that the music was so loud. He gave him another ten minutes. If he hadn’t turned up by then, he would leave.

 

* * *

 

“Come on, Dean!” Sam called, “We’re nearly two hours late already!”

“Dude, rule number one: Never come to a party in time. Only losers do that,” Dean replied, lying lazily on his bed.

He still hadn’t changed.

“I can still go without you,” Sam said in a warning tone.

“Alright, alright,” Dean huffed.

Sam left Dean’s room. He checked his reflection in the mirror. He was wearing a suit jacket and a patterned sleeveless sweater. He readjusted his fake mustache and stuck out his tongue.

“No way someone will recognize you as Einstein,” Dean said as he appeared downstairs.

“Says the guy wearing a blanket,” Sam teased.

His brother was wearing his cowboy boots, a brownish poncho and a Stetson. He had pinned a Sheriff badge on his chest and looked immensely pleased with himself.

“Dude, I’m the friggin’ Sheriff, so watch your mouth,” he replied.

 

“I always knew you had a Western fetish,” Sam stated as they walked to the car, “But you took it to a whole new level…”

“I don’t have Western _fetish_ ,” Dean said.

“Yes, you do.”

 

* * *

 

Cas was sulking in the semi-dark room, when a couple came in, lips glued to each other. They seemed not to notice Cas. She was dressed as Waldo, he as Bart Simpson, a zigzag line drawn across his forehead. When Bart started to let his hands wander under Waldo’s stripped shirt, Cas got up. The two of them were making him uncomfortable. They reminded him of Dean – he thought about what it would be like if it were them making out. _Not now_ , Cas thought. This was really not the time for thinking about stuff like that. He should leave.

He was prowling through the living room. People were sitting on the carpeted floor, standing together in small groups or sat on the couch. There were lots of empty bottles – and they had not been containing beer – and plastic cups all over the floor. Cas fleetly wondered how Ruby had purchased all the alcoholic beverages. Fake ID, he guessed. Wasn’t booze usually quite expensive? Some people had brought their own stuff, but most liquor had already been there. Well, then again Ruby’s family sure had a lot of money, with a house like this. He was surprised that her parents allowed such parties. Where was Ruby anyway? He hadn’t seen the hostess all evening. He was just making his way to the giant staircase that led to a second story, when he spotted her.

She lingered near the door. She was wearing a short black dress with a frayed seem and a pointed hat, identifying her as a witch. She looked as if she was waiting for someone, peeking through the window next to the door. And sure enough, the doorbell rang. Cas was only able to hear it because he was so close.

Ruby opened the door.

“Hey, Sam,” Ruby purred.

“Hi,” Sam said, standing awkwardly in the doorway.

Was that a fake mustache?! Cas would most definitely _not_ tell Gabriel about this. His brother would drop a marriage proposal in less than twenty-four hours.

“Sam!” Cas called in relief, earning a dark look from Ruby.

“Cas!” Sam replied, equally relieved.

He came in to hug Cas. His huge shoulders blocked the view to the door, so Castiel did not see Dean enter.

“Hey, Cas,” he heard Dean’s deep voice.

“Dean?!” Castiel cried out in disbelief, detaching himself from Sam abruptly.

Dean stepped in, tipping at his cowboy hat.  This was just _so_ Dean. Cas would have laughed if he hadn’t been so shocked to see him.

“Howdy,” Dean said with a grin.

“Yeah, howdy,” Cas replied slowly.

Sam hadn’t mentioned that Dean would come, too. Dean himself hadn’t mentioned it either. But there he was, a shit-eating grin on his face.

“Come, Sam, I want to show you something,” Ruby interrupted their reunion.

She took Sam’s hand – Sam’s eyes widened in surprise – and dragged him toward the stairs, leaving Cas and Dean on their own. Cas was not even close to emotionally prepared for this.

“So, Cas,” Dean said, putting an arm around Cas’ shoulders, “You had a good time so far?”

“No,” Cas said, allowing himself to sound whiny.

“Why not?” Dean asked and without waiting for an answer he said, “I mean music, free booze…”

He waved vaguely about.

“I’m not one for drinking,” Cas admitted, “Just had one beer so far.”

Dean seemed to head for a certain group of people. Castiel followed him warily. They were sitting in a circle on the floor, an empty vodka bottle in their mid.

“I’m not trying to get you drunk or anything but you should at least _try_ a shot,” Dean said, “Maybe you like it. Will loosen you up a bit, eh?”

Cas nodded. Dean was right. There was no harm in giving it a try.

“Hey, guys, mind if we join?” Dean asked.

A girl in a leo print shirt answered: “Not at all.”

Two boys were moving aside to make space for them. Dean sat down between them and Cas sat down a little behind him. Someone placed a plastic cup in front of Dean and filled it partly with golden liquor. Someone spun the bottle. A drinking game, so that’s how the wind blew. The rules seemed to be simple enough. At whomever the bottle pointed had to drink their cup. It was not very spectacular, but those who had a few cups already seemed to find it rather entertaining.

At some point the bottle pointed at Dean.

“Come on, we share it,” Dean said, an encouraging (quite gorgeous) smile on his lips.

He took a sip, grimacing slightly and handed it over to Cas. He took it tentatively.

“His first shot!” Dean announced and the group cheered.

Encouraged, Cas put the cup to his lips and drank.

The liquor burnt like hell in his mouth, almost causing him to throw up. He coughed. The others giggled. A weird taste stayed in his mouth, earthy, with a touch of sweetness. His throat felt nice and warm.

“You okay?” Dean wanted to know.

“Uh, yeah, I guess,” Castiel replied.

“Good.”

Dean offered to share his drink the next time it was his turn, too. Cas declined and Dean didn’t press him any further. Cas was thankful for that.

 

Cas took off his coat and the jacket of his suit. It was just _so_ hot. He wiped the sweat from his forehead. Dean had had maybe four shots now. His voice had become a little louder and it sounded rough.

“Come on, Cas, I wanna dance,” Dean called, when the bottle was empty.

Without hesitation, he dragged Cas to his feet, swaying slightly himself. Someone had increased the volume of the music even more. The expensive stereo was playing music to dance to and a lot of people were doing it with the help of a little Dutch courage. Everyone was letting their hair down, dancing wildly, not caring whether they looked stupid or not. Dean led Cas to the “dance floor”, the empty space between the couch arrangement and the opposite wall. Cas dropped off his jackets and the rim and Dean got rid of his stupid poncho, revealing a dark Western shirt. He placed his Stetson on Cas’ head. He dragged him along, holding Cas’ hand (making his heart jump) until they found some space in the crowd.

When they started dancing Dean let go of Cas’ hand.

Dancing with Dean… somehow it was easy. Well, they didn’t dance _with_ each other. They had no physical contact; they were just facing each other – _dancing at each other_.

Cas was not an experienced dancer, but he just shuffled from one foot to the other, put up his hands and hoped that the stains of sweat that had formed in his arm pits weren’t that obvious. From time to time the Stetson slipped down, obscuring Cas’ vision, and they laughed.

Sometimes girls were dancing their way toward them, inviting them – mostly Dean – to dance with them. Cas always pretended not to understand their looks and just continued to dance for himself, or rather with Dean. The sheriff seemed to enjoy the female attention, however. Once he took a girl by the hand and whirled her around. Cas tried not to be jealous.

So far there had not been any slow numbers. It was just a matter of time, however. People were interrupting their dancing frenzy, fanning air into their pink faces. The short break between songs was filled with a retching noise coming from the garden.

When the song started, a sweet piano melody, Cas and Dean looked at each other, an uncertain look on their faces. Castiel was fumbling with his tie that was strangulating him.

“Lemme help ya,” Dean said and started undoing the tie for Cas.

It felt weird, standing so still after all this stomping and shaking and spinning. Dean had a hard time unknotting what Cas had done, unexperienced as he was. Cas looked up in his face, which was just again far too close and he thought of the kiss again and how easy it would be to lean in and to just _do it again_.

Finally he could breathe again because Dean had succeeded and stepped back. The love song was still playing; couples were standing in close embrace, hands on each other’s backs or butts and single girls were singing the lyrics with dramatic expressions on their faces.

“I… um, need to go to the restroom,” Cas stammered, taking off Dean’s hat and giving it back to its owner.

                                                                                                                                           

As Cas returned from the shiny palace of white ceramic, party music was playing afresh. It was a remix of a famous pop song. Cas searched the crowd for Dean. He finally spotted him. He was not alone. Very close to him was Lydia from history class, shaking her hips. In her white dress with the sandals she looked like an Ancient Greek.

Cas could not help it. He was assailed by jealousy. He was only gone for a few minutes and now Dean was dancing with someone else, as if he had only waited for him to go! He was only wasting his time hoping that Dean’s feelings for him would change. It was futile. Dean was not into boys and most certainly not into him.

It made him angry. Why couldn’t Dean just leave him alone? Why befriend him, why be so charming, why try to make him comfortable at a party, why dance with him?! Like, what was the use?! Cas felt like vomiting and this time it had nothing to do with the whiskey.

 

“Hey, Castle,” slurred a voice next to him.

Cas jumped. He turned around to see who was addressing him. He needed a moment to recognize them. He was facing a pale-faced zombie in a dirty green t-shirt.

“Oh, hey, Derek,” Cas greeted his least-favorite classmate, “Cool costume.”

“Thanks, man.”

Derek was telling him some crap about how cool his parents were with him drinking alcohol and how awesome he thought the party was. Cas was not really listening. He was glaring at Dean. Derek noticed it.

“Oh, man, tha’ Winchesta is such a fag,” Derek said, “I mean really – a cowboy? Come on!”

“You got a problem with that, or what?” Castiel asked angrily.

He hated Derek. Every time he opened his mouth shit was escaping it. He had never heard him say something even remotely intelligent. Now he was insulting Dean on top of being a homophobic shit.

“Why?” Derek asked challenging.

“Because that’s damn rude, that’s why,” Cas said.

“You gay for him or what?” Derek asked with a malevolent grin.

He wanted to hit him so badly. Just beat the living shit out of him. It wasn’t just what Derek had said – there were a lot of worse things you could say to a person than ‘fag’ – but also Cas’ disappointment, the cold feeling of jealousy in his chest.

He clenched his fists.

“You’re such a jerk,” Cas told him, standing up to leave.

 

* * *

 

Sam had no idea what was going on downstairs. Ruby had led him to her room. He was absolutely stunned. He wasn’t sure what was going on, but he was sure appreciating the turn of events. He had been thinking that the walls were quite soundproof when Ruby had grabbed his jumper and pulled him down into a kiss.

Half an hour later they were still at it. They were lying on her bed, bodies entangled and hands dug into each other’s long hair.

“I always knew you had the hots for me,” Ruby announced, cupping his face in her hands.

“You did?” Sam asked in disbelief.

“Yes. I just didn’t know I was the same.”

 

* * *

 

Castiel was opening the first door on the corridor, peeking inside he found the room empty. It was a fitness room. He dropped down on a chair. Why was he so agitated? He knew that Derek was a jerk.

He stayed a while in the room, calming himself down. He checked the time on his phone. It was around midnight. He’d told Gabriel he would be back at three, tops. Still some time, then. Well, nobody would notice if he just left, he thought angrily.

After quite some time in the gray darkness he decided to go back down again. Maybe Dean had finished his little dance. Maybe not. Maybe he would find Sam. Or Meg. Or even Luc.

He left the room and ran into a person.

“Sorry,” a familiar voice said.

The tall shape of Sam was towering over of him, the fake mustache sticking to his neck. He grinned somewhat sheepishly at Cas. Wordlessly they walked downstairs.

Sam headed for the kitchen and Cas followed. He could use another drink – alcoholic or not; his throat was all dry.

Sam poured them a glass of water each from the tap. Cas was drinking it greedily.

 

This was when Dean stepped in. He was unaccompanied. There was a plastic cup in his hands and it was now obvious that he was drunk. The shots had been effective and it seemed like Dean might have had some more while Cas was away. Dean stopped when he saw them. Then he grinned.

 

“I swear, the nex’ time som’on calls me _Brokeback Mountain_ I’m gonna flip out,” Dean announced, slurring.

He came closer, leaning at the counter next to Cas.

“Who are you s’pposed to be again?” Dean asked, poking Cas in the chest with his index finger.

“I’m the Doctor,” Cas answered promptly.

“Doctor, huh?” Dean repeated, smirking. “Wanna examine me, Doctor Sexy?” he inquired, leaning closer to Cas to speak in his ear.

Sam was watching them skeptically.

“N-not that kind of d-doctor,” Cas stammered, irritated by Dean’s words and his breath on his cheek.

Was Dean seriously suggesting that they should be _playing doctor_? Was this some kind of joke? First he dumped him for that Lydia, now he wanted Cas to examine his body?!

“Not ‘sexy’ you mean? Well, tha’s bullshit, Cas. You have to believe in yaself more, man.”

“Not a medical doctor, I mean, not a physician…” Cas tried to clarify but Dean wasn’t listening.

“Because you _are_ sexy. Really sexy. I bet all the chicks here want you. Hey, you ever kissed som’on?”

Sam cleared his throat, but no one noticed him.

“I kissed you,” Cas answered, deciding that it didn’t matter what he was saying now.

“I mean you ever kissed som’on today?” Dean said.

“No,” Cas said.

Dean had not only left his leather jacket at home but also his knowledge of grammar as it seemed.

“I know two things, Cas,” he said, patting him on the shoulder, leading him toward the living room again. Sam followed cautiously. “Firs’: Ernie ’n’ Bert’re gay. Second: You’re not gonna leave before you kissed som’on. All the girls dig you. Like that one.”

He pointed at a blonde girl in revealing attire. Cas was fleetly wondering what she was dressed-up as. To him, she looked like a prostitute.

“Tha’s Cas-titty. No, wait, um, _Chastity._ That’s it. She really digs you, Cas. I can see that.”

“I don’t wanna kiss her,” Cas said hastily.

“Bullshit, Cas. Don’t be so goddamn shy!”

“I’m not being shy, Dean!” Castiel protested.

“I don’ understand it,” Dean said, shaking his head, “I’m jus’ tryin’ ta help ya. You have to loosen up, talk to girls… and why didn’ you dance wiffem, I mean they love ya. You’re cute an’ handsome an’ sexy; why not kiss one?!”

Cas stared at him, the rage he had felt when talking to Derek had returned. Was Dean really that stupid?!

“You don’t understand anything, do you?!” he shouted at Dean who cringed, “I don’t wanna kiss Chastity or any other person on this stupid party!”

“Hey, man, calm down, s’was doin’ this for you,” Dean said, “to cheer ya up. Thought you’re too shy an’ stuff. You didn’ come back an’ I didn’ want you to feel lonely and sulk again, so I wanted you to have some fun, too…”

“You really don’t get it!” Cas cried exasperatedly. “I don’t want you to hook me up with someone just so you don’t need to have a guilty conscience when you have something with a girl. Because I won’t hook up with a girl. Hell, Dean, I DON’T EVEN LIKE GIRLS! GOD, YOU’RE SO STUPID! THE ONLY ONE I WANT TO KISS IS _YOU_ , YOU ASSBUTT!”

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now the cat's out of the bag as the German says.


	17. WHAT TEAM? (WHY? CAS!)

Castiel ran. He just ran away. Tears were rushing down his face, but he didn’t care, he didn’t even notice, really.

He ran all the way to the bus stop, never stopping. There he sat down, panting. He soon started to shiver in the cool night air. He realized that he had forgotten his coat and suit jacket, but he was too preoccupied with what had just happened to worry about that.

He had just confessed to Dean that he wanted to kiss him. Right after Dean had told him explicitly that he had tried to pair him up with a girl so he could have “fun” with another one. Why had he done that?!

He was lucky. A bus just stopped minutes after he had arrived at the bus stop. He silently thanked God for the miracle. At the same time was angry at God – why was it always him who shit happened to?! Well, life wasn’t fair. And God probably had better things to do than preventing teenage boys from embarrassing themselves.

Cas leaned against the cold window, the glass’ vibrations not helping to diminish his headache. Tears were still flooding down his cheeks. _I’ve fucked up, I’ve fucked up, I’ve fucked up._

 

When he tried to unlock the door his hands were shaking.

He finally managed to barge inside. Cas could hear faint laughter and voices. He accidentally shut the door with a bang. The voices stopped.

Slowly the door to Gabriel’s bedroom opened and he peeked into the hall.

“Cassie, I didn’t expect you to be back so soo-” he started.

When he saw the state Cas was in, he immediately was in concerned brother mode.

“Cassie, what’s wrong?!” he asked urgently, hurrying over to him.

He held him by his shoulders. Cas was overwhelmed by his barely restraint emotions. He started to cry, to really _cry_ , interrupted only by ugly sobbing noises. He flung himself at Gabriel, who quietly held him and made soothing noises.

“Everything’s alright,” he reassured him and although Cas thought he was wrong it felt good to hear the words.

At some point Cas had no tears left to shed and sniffing enormously he detached himself from Gabriel. The older one offered him a handkerchief from his vest’s chest pocket.

“What are you wearing?” Cas asked confused when he had blown his nose.

“Um…” Gabriel made.

The bedroom door opened yet again and two young women emerged from it, both wrapped into bed sheets.

“Everything alright?” one of them asked.

“Yeah, just a little teenage drama, eh, Cassie?” Gabriel said, giving Cas a comforting little squeeze.

Cas nodded, wiping away the tears.

“Maybe we should go,” the other one said.

“I… I really don’t want to ruin your evening,” Cas said in a shaken voice.

“Don’t worry about us, our evening was probably better than yours,” the first one, a blonde, said. “Come on, I’ll make you a cup of tea and then Erica and I will vanish into Gabe’s room and you two can have a talk if you want to.”

 

* * *

 

After Cas’ announcement, and the drink Dean needed to have afterward, the Winchesters silently walked to the car. Sam slipped into the driver’s seat and started the engine.

He glanced at his brother, who seemed utterly dumbfounded. His lips were slightly parted, his eyes transfixed on the unlit road. Sam waited for Dean to say something, but he didn’t.

When Sam pulled over in front of their house, he cleared his throat.

“Hey, you wanna, er, _talk_ or something?” he asked.

“No, Sam, I don’ wanna talk!” Dean snapped and exited.

Sam sat alone in the car for a moment, trying to comprehend, what had just happened. So Castiel _really_ had a crush on Dean, which obviously Dean hadn’t known, either. He wondered what was going through Dean’s head now. It had been pretty obvious that Dean liked Castiel a lot and Sam had been more than happy. It was a rare thing, Dean liking his friends. He had problems with Meg, he didn’t like Ruby in particular (he would worry about that later), he thought Chuck and Becky were embarrassing (to which he could agree to a large extent, but still) and Kevin, well, Kevin didn’t have time to hang out with him often, so it didn’t matter really. Dean had liked Jess, but Jess was dead.

It was a miracle that Dean and Cas had reconciled. Dean usually was rather unforgiving, but he had realized that he had made a mistake.

Sam had noticed that they enjoyed each other’s company rather a lot. It was the way they were always next to each other. Know that he knew of Cas’ feelings for his brother, it made sense that he had strived for closeness, but Dean, too, hadn’t seemed like he minded. Cas’ usual seat at lunch was next to Dean or opposite of him and although they didn’t converse with each other all the time, they acknowledged through casual remarks that the other one was there.

Sam remembered Dean’s words from previously: _You’re cute an’ handsome an’ sexy_. Not the typical vocabulary Dean usually used to describe his buddies.

It was weird, somehow Sam could _see_ it. Dean and Cas. It was weird because Sam had never pictured Dean being with another dude. It was always Dean and the girls. Although Sam knew enough about Dean, to not take all his bragging and talking about them too seriously.

Sam didn’t know what to think about it. He was surprised and worried that this plot twist was going to ruin his and Cas’ friendship, somehow. It all depended on Dean’s feelings and how Cas would react if he was rejected. But what if they were to come together?! He seriously doubted that they would go on double dates with Ruby. Man, Dean was not supposed to be with his friends, for heaven’s sake.

He locked the car and went inside, carefully closing the door so that the adults wouldn’t wake up, and took the stairs. He stopped in front of Dean’s room and listened intently, but there was nothing to be heard. He walked into his room and after having changed, crawled under his blanket. He was wide awake. Too much had happened this evening. He had fucking _made out_ with _Ruby_. He would probably make out with her in the future a lot. And (all of the sudden, it seemed) his friend had fallen for his brother.

 

* * *

 

It was weird considering when he had come home and when he had fallen asleep and how much he’d had last night, but Dean was the first one to wake up the next morning. After he made himself a modest breakfast, he went outside to clear his head. He walked aimlessly through the neighborhood.

So, Cas had a crush on him. He wondered why he hadn’t been able to tell the signs before. It was quite a surprise. A pleasant surprise? Sure, he felt _flattered_ that someone like Cas, such an intelligent, nice person, uh, _liked_ him. It was a new situation for him, having a boy liking him. Well, chances were that boys had liked him in the past, but this was the first time someone had actually told him. He was not sure what he was supposed to do with that information. It was kind of Jo all over again. Dean didn’t want to hurt her, but he didn’t want to lose her company either. It was selfish in a way. Jo had been one of his closest friends since forever and he still hoped that it was a temporary thing. He didn’t see her every day and he pretended that it was still the same than when they had been ten.

Cas on the other hand was someone he saw five days a week. It would be really hard to avoid him – not only because they went to the same school but because Cas was now Sam’s friend. Sam would not abandon him because Dean felt a little uncomfortable around him, of that Dean was sure.

And it was not like Dean wanted to end their acquaintance. He did not want to lose Cas. In a way he was angry. Why did Cas have to do that? Falling in love with him, or whatever?! Why did he have to make it complicated? It had been so nice.

He had felt like there was something special developing between them. Cas had seemed like his last chance to change for the better – the last chance before he left high school. He’d always have problems with keeping friends. Dean could talk to people alright, but he had problems with keeping in touch. Maybe he was too egocentric. It had been the reason why Lisa had split up with him and it was the reason why the only people who would sit with him at lunch were his kid brother and Charlie who only had friends online. He often wondered why she even stuck with him. She was hella cute and a lot funnier than him.

He was a loser.

He had no special talents; he had no dream to pursue… Unlike Sam, who knew exactly what he wanted to do with his life. Dean envied him. Sam had the brains and the patience. Dean would probably become a mechanic, like his father.

Cas was just like his brother; a smart kid. Why would he choose to like him? It was a fucking miracle. He hadn’t exactly been nice to him at the beginning.

 _The only one I want to kiss is_ you, _you assbutt!_ he had shouted. Why him?!

He’d been absolutely paralyzed while Cas was shouting at him. The words had surprised him, but the shouting, too. It was unlike Cas who had said not a word when he had insulted and shoved him. He had called him an “assbutt” which was kind of cute. Cas certainly wasn’t used to swearing. Cas seemed so innocent. He didn’t drink, he didn’t swear… Now that he thought about it, the kid had probably never ever kissed someone before him.

Dean groaned. It probably was because of the kiss. That stupid, meaningless kiss. He would never have done it, if he had known that Cas would take it so seriously. How was he supposed to know that Cas was gay?! It was not like Cas acted like those cliché gays on TV. He’d thought that maybe there was something going on between him and Anna (as they had held hands), or maybe even with Meg or with no-one because Cas was too damn shy. But no, he hadn’t wanted do dance with the ladies because he was into guys.

It all felt a little weird now. He had cuddled with Castiel. Or he had let Cas cuddle with him. If he had known back then… It had felt just nice and right and he hadn’t really thought about it that much.

In a way he could understand why Cas wanted to repeat their kiss. He had to admit that it had been quite pleasant. Just a little short. They had just been getting started after all. Their lips had merely touched and it had been borderline-awesome. What would it be like to share a proper kiss with Cas? A kiss that involved a bit more than just mouth on mouth contact. He wondered what it would feel like to delve his hands into Cas’ dark messy hair, to pull him closer, to hold him tightly, to let his hands wander up and down Cas’ back. What would his mouth taste like from the inside? It would have been easy for him to slit his tongue into his mouth and explore it. The thought of it was rather appealing. A fuzzy feeling was stirring in his stomach and he could feel himself blush.

There was just no denying that Cas was attractive. He liked how Cas was rather lean. Not that he was an expert on the male rear, but he thought that Cas’ butt looked good in those tight dark jeans he usually wore. He loved seeing Cas smile, how his lips curled and how the skin around his wonderfully blue eyes wrinkled. Yes, he had been fairly surprised that not more girls at the party had hit on Cas. Maybe they had an embedded sixth sense to detect a guy’s sexual orientation. Anyhow, it was a shame that no one seemed to appreciate him. There was an air of casual sexiness about him. God, that _hair_ and that _voice_!

 _I’m not gay!_ he thought. He’d never wanted to kiss a dude before. Being gay was all about wanting dick, right? He knew that much from Yaoi. Not that he was watching any of the kind. He’d just heard about it.

If he was into guys, he would know by now, wouldn’t he? He’d spent eighteen years of his life going for girls. He’d never considered “playing for the other team”. It was absurd.

And what if he and Cas got together? In theory, of course. What would his dad say? He believed him not to be homophobic per se, but what would he say if it was about his own son? And Sam? Cas was his friend. Would he consider it taking him away from him?

Well, that was all just theory. He was not gay and from how Cas had reacted the day before, he was not sure if Cas wanted him anymore. He had seemed rather pissed off. He’d run away, completely forgetting his trademark trench coat and the jacket. Sam had been farsighted enough to pick them up. They were currently lying in the back of Dean’s car.

 

Without thinking about where he was going, he had found the way to Bobby’s. He walked through the maze of wrecked cars. He finally found Bobby working on an old Mercedes. When he saw Dean, he put his tools aside.

“Dean?!” he asked disbelievingly.

“Hey, Bobby,” Dean greeted him.

“What a surprise to see you,” Bobby said, “I almost forgot what you looked like.”

“Yeah, I… was around, so…” Dean said, feeling guilty.

He hadn’t visited Bobby in ages. Dean avoided his gaze, looking at the car instead.

“What’s wrong with this one?” he asked.

“Well, let’s say there ain’t anything right with her,” Bobby said, “You mind giving me a hand?”

Dean consented and for most of the morning the two of them worked together, Bobby giving him instructions from time to time. Dean had worked on the salvage yard as a holiday job before. His father had taught him the basics when he had entrusted him with the Impala.

It felt good to work. It was good to have some handiwork to focus on.

After a while they took a break. Bobby was making him sit with him in the kitchen.

It was almost like back in the days when Bobby had babysat them. Dean had sat on the very same spot and Bobby had helped him with his homework. That was why he felt a little guilty when Bobby asked him how school was going.

“Okay,” Dean lied.

Bobby didn’t quite seem to believe him, but he didn’t ask any further. He sipped at his beer.

“You’re so quiet today,” Bobby stated.

Dean shrugged.

“Something the matter?” Bobby wanted to know.

“I’m, uh, having a little trouble with a friend,” Dean said vaguely.

“Who are you having trouble with?” Bobby asked, “Not Ellen’s girl?”

“No, no, it’s not Jo. Um, it’s a new kid in school. His name’s Cas, he’s in Sammy’s grade,” Dean explained.

“So why you’re having beef?” Bobby asked.

He seemed to be in his full Uncle Bobby mode right now, determined to function as Dean’s therapist. Dean was sure that he would not stop inquiring until he knew the whole story.

“We’re not having beef. Actually, I like him a lot, but still…”

Bobby gave him a sharp look.

“I’m not having all day, boy, you know,” he said in a mock voice.

“He, uh, likes me a bit more than I like him,” Dean stammered.

“That all?” Bobby asked unimpressed.

Dean gave him a questioning look. Bobby sighed.

“I never had the impression that you were exactly _averse_ to attention,” he said.

“Yeah, but this is different!” Dean said exasperatedly.

“Because he’s a boy?”

“No, because I actually like him! I _want_ to be his friend!”

That was what his trouble was all about! It was exactly that he _did_ like him and that he didn’t want to hurt him, ever. Bobby lifted his cap to scratch his head, looking thoughtful.

“You know what, Dean?” he said finally, “I think you’ve got the opposite of a problem.”

 

Around noon, Dean went to Charlie’s. Sam had written him a worried text. He had replied that he was on his way to Charlie, so he might as well actually do it. He sent her a text.

_you home?_

 

She was.

It took him quite some time to go to her, as he had left his baby at home. Charlie immediately sensed that there was something wrong with him and she managed to maneuver him into her room without her always-curious dad getting in the way. He sank onto her bed beneath her big Arwen Undomiel poster and buried his face in the _Pacman_ patterned bed linen.

“What’s happened, Dean?” she asked.

Dean recounted last night’s events while Charlie listened patiently.

“He’s got a crush on me, Charlie!” he concluded.

Charlie patted his back, comfortingly. She felt a little overstrained with the situation. She was used to Dean’s outbursts of self-pity but this was on a whole new level. Dean seemed genuinely upset. So she had been right about Cas and Dean. She would celebrate that later, it seemed inappropriate at the moment.

“It’s okay,” she hushed.

“How’s this okay?!” Dean asked, his voice muffled through the pillow.

“Tell me this, Dean,” Charlie said, “What exactly are you afraid of?”

The question caught Dean off guard. It took a while until he was able to answer.

“I’m afraid to lose him,” he replied.

“Why is that?”

“Because he’s special.”

Charlie smiled. Yes, she had been right all along.

“When you say his name in your head, what does it feel like?” Charlie inquired.

Dean sat up. He gave her an irritated look.

“What?”

“Just do it,” Charlie commanded, “Think his name.”

Dean closed his eyes. _Cas_ , he thought. _Castiel._ Ruffle-haired, sapphire-eyed, rough-voiced, socially-awkward Castiel. He saw Cas clumsily dancing, Cas with his Stetson, too big for his head, Cas licking his lips seductively back at the diner… He smiled. _Cas._ The warm feeling was again stirring in his chest.

“Now think another name,” Charlie’s voice sounded next to him, “Mine or Sam’s.”

“Does it feel the same?”

No. It did not. He opened his eyes and there sat Charlie, a knowing smile on her face.

“It’s okay,” she said simply, a hand reassuringly resting on his arm.

“But I’m not gay,” he breathed.

“I know what you’re thinking. ‘I’ve never been into boys!’ Dean, it doesn’t matter! The only thing that matters is that you like Castiel. There’s no one dictating you who you’re supposed to love – well, apart from society – you are the one who says that you’re straight, or whatever. And now you like a boy. So maybe you’re not straight. So what?”

Dean looked at her, as if he had just seen a unicorn.

“Thank you,” he mouthed.

“No problem.”


	18. Hell Yeah

“I can’t, Gabriel!” Cas whined.

He was still not dressed for school. He hadn’t touched his pancakes either.

“You’re going to school, period.”

“But, Gabe, _he_ will be there.”

“If Mom ever hears that I let you neglect school because of a boy, she will kill me. So, now, Romeo, get dressed. I’ll even drive you to school.”

Cas gave up. He felt terrible. The last day he had spent mainly in his room. He had only come out of his room after Gabriel’s girls had left. His brother hadn’t asked too many questions. He had actually sat down with him and watched a row of _Doctor Who_ episodes with him.

Castiel grabbed random clothes and put them on. He felt a little naked without the trench coat.

They drove in silence. Castiel felt a little sick. Gabriel was telling him some anecdotes illustrating numerous awkward situations he had been in when he was a teenager but Cas didn’t listen. He was unsure how he should act today. With Gabriel driving him he would arrive the same time as usual, giving him five minutes tops until the Winchesters arrived. The issue was that on Mondays they had their first class on the same corridor as Dean which meant that he would have to see him, even if he darted inside before they arrived. He could hide in the restroom until the school bell rang. But then he would be late for Ms Raphael’s class and he didn’t want _that_.

They passed the store that sold mattresses and then the school building was in sight. Cas gulped.

Gabriel drove on the school grounds. He searched for a free space. He parked next to a familiar, shiny black car. Cas stomach turned. They were already there.

 

* * *

 

“Where’s the sonuvabitch?!” Dean growled all tense.

His fingers had a tight grip around Cas’ trench coat and jacket. Sam stood next to him, not able to hide his amusement. When Dean had come home, he had forced a confession out of him. He had teased him all evening about it (well, at least when John and Kate were not around, he had that much decency left). It was nice to be in such a position for a change. Dean had bantered him about his obsession with Ruby for long enough. Now the tables had turned. He was enjoying this far too much.

“Maybe he won’t come…” Dean said, half desperate, half hopeful.

“He will, trust me,” Sam said.

And he did. Sam recognized Gabriel’s car. He didn’t bother pointing it out to Dean. His brother could wait a couple more minutes… The Novaks were disembarking from the car. Gabriel accompanied his little brother all the way up to the building.

Apparently Dean had spotted them now, too, because he whispered “fuck, fuck, fuck…” under his breath. They stood close to the entrance, on the same spot were Cas was always awaiting them. Castiel couldn’t miss them. He had to walk past them to enter the school. And sure enough, he looked up the stairs and saw them. He stopped. Gabriel said something to him.

Dean tentatively walked down the stairs toward them, Sam followed with a distance.

“Hey, Cas,” Dean croaked.

“Hello, Dean,” Cas replied automatically, looking at his feet.

“You forgot some stuff at Ruby’s…” Dean said, presenting him his clothes.

“Thanks,” Cas said quietly and took them.

He moved to proceed his way inside, but Dean gripped his arm, preventing him from going.

“Wait!” he exclaimed. “Listen, Cas, I want to apologize –”

“There’s nothing to apologize for,” Cas interrupted him.

He seemed to have found the strength to look into his eyes again. The two of them stared at each other, a mixture of longing and pain on both faces. Dean stroked his jaw, inhaling deeply.

“You said…” Dean began, “Um… You said you wanted to kiss me. Well… me too.”

“What?” Cas asked, tilting his head in confusion.

“I want to kiss you, too.”

Castiel looked from Dean to his brother and from his brother to Sam, as if looking for confirmation from the two. Sam smiled at him.

“You… you want to kiss me?” Cas asked, disbelievingly.

He tried to find something indicating that he didn’t mean what he was saying, but he couldn’t. Dean’s light green eyes were wide open in anticipation.

“I want to kiss you,” Dean repeated. “So, you still want to kiss me?” he asked, nervousness making his voice rough.

Cas nodded fervently. Yes. Yes, of course. A crooked smile appeared on Dean’s lips.

“Hell yeah,” Dean muttered before closing the distance between them.

 

Castiel was overwhelmed by the physicality of it all. Their chests were pressed against each other’s; Dean’s hands were roaming through his hair, ever pulling him closer. Cas had let his trench coat drop, it lay forgotten at their feet. He wrapped his own arms around Dean, clutching the sleek material of Dean’s leather jacket. He could feel Dean’s slight stubble, the ring on his finger, his amulet between them.

It was hard to breathe, with their lips locked and Dean _so close_. He didn’t want to stop now just for the sake of oxygen. Dean felt the same.

It felt like his chest was exploding, happiness flooding his whole body. He was positively glowing. Kissing Cas was just so effortlessly. Their lips were in perfect sync, like they were made for each other. He was kissing Cas – in other words: he was in heaven.

 

A small crowd had formed around them. People had stopped to watch. “Is that _Dean Winchester_?” some whispered astonished. Neither Cas nor Dean noticed.

Gabriel leant nonchalantly toward Sam and laid a hand on his shoulder.

“Guess that makes us brothers-in-law or something,” he said with a grin.

 

_THE END_


	19. Epilogue: Good things do happen, Dean.

Weirdly enough, Dean and Castiel now being officially boyfriends, wasn’t that much of a deal, Sam thought. Actually, he quite liked having Cas around often, because it meant that Dean would be too occupied to annoy him. Sure, sometimes their lovesick behavior was indeed sickening, but mostly it was bearable.

That had to do with the fact that Dean had always hated what he referred to as _chick flick moments_. Sure, Cas meant a lot to him but that didn’t mean he suddenly turned all touchy-feely. He was abnormally happy to be with him, but he still had problems to express his feelings verbally. He chastised himself for it. It was just so silly – they were together, after all. Still, the infamous three words had not yet crossed his lips. He tried to tell Cas in other ways and Cas understood. Of course he understood. He was Cas.

The two of them scarcely went on _proper_ dates like to romantic picnics, to ice-cream parlors and screenings of romcom movies. They did things regular buddies would do together and then, when they came home they would retreat to Dean’s or Cas’ room and kiss and cuddle for an eternity.

One seldom saw them show affection in public, however.

That was because of various reasons, including said animosity toward _chick flick_ _moments_. There was Dean’s slightly jealous nature – he didn’t want to share the precious moments with _his_ Castiel with anyone. And there was the incident with Derek which put things into perspective.

It had been about a week after Dean’s and Cas’ public make-out scenario. There had been a lot of talk about them. Dean Winchester kissing another boy was quite a turn of events. It was not nice being followed by whispers, but they could cope. Derek, however, made a mistake.

He insulted Cas in front of Dean.

Three punches in the face and a kick in the nuts later, Derek was whimpering and Dean was called to see the principal.

Cas did, of course, not appreciate Dean’s violent approach, but when Dean came out of Mr. Schubert’s office, he gave him an extra-long kiss, after checking the corridor for an audience.

“You need to control your temper,” he scolded him when they broke apart; still there was a smile on his face.

“Dude, you sound just like Charlie,” Dean said.

 

* * *

 

Dean quickly developed to be not only Cas’ boyfriend but his best friend, too. It was a nice time. Summer was drawing ever closer and they could spend time outside, hanging around in the Ruins, taking a bath in the lake nearby. They often spend time with Charlie and Jo. The two of them were getting closer each day and Dean finally could enjoy Jo’s company again. Sam was joining them quite frequently, but he never took Ruby with him. Dean and Ruby – that was not possible, yet. But still, he was happy. He was not sure what exactly was going on between him and Ruby, but he would figure it out.

 

With Cas spending so much time at the Winchesters’ (especially in Dean’s room), it was inevitable that John and Kate found out. Dean had tried to keep it a secret at first. It was something private, after all. He wasn’t sure how his father would think about the whole thing. Dean had always tried to be the tough guy. His father had to rely on him to look after Sammy when he was working. He thought that maybe his father would regard him as less _tough_ now that he was gay – or bi – or whatever. Accepting it as a facet of his personality was a process and he wanted to figure it out for himself before explaining it to his “parents”.

When it – or he – finally came out, it wasn’t planned. It sort of just slipped out.

Kate asked whether Dean’s friend would be staying overnight.

“Boyfriend, actually,” Dean admitted, blushing against his will.

John, who was sitting nearby, grumbled something along the lines of: “At least no-one’s gonna get pregnant…”

“So that’s five boys in this house then,” Kate said with a smirk.

It took a moment for John and Dean who were present to comprehend what she had said. Five boys. John, Sam, Dean, Cas and …oh, the baby.

 

* * *

 

Cas told his mother when she came over to visit.

Amelia Novak looked better than she had when she had dropped him off at Gabriel’s. Her cheeks were slightly rosy.

“Oh, my big boys,” she nearly cried with happiness as she enclosed them both in her arms, which was a bit awkward.

Amelia stayed with the Miltons for a couple of days. Her ex-husband’s relatives were not willing to let her stay with them anymore and Gabriel’s apartment really was not made for another person. She was looking for an apartment for herself and Cas, because she planned on staying, making her son happier than she could guess.

“So, did Cassie tell you he’s got a boyfriend now?” Gabriel asked his mother when they were sitting in a restaurant, before her temporary departure.

“No…” Amelia answered, looking questionably at Castiel.

“Gabe!” Cas muttered embarrassed.

“What?!” Gabriel replied, “You never shut up about him.”

Cas was silent for a moment. He looked insecurely at his mother, but she smiled encouragingly. She had been the first person he had opened up to. It had been their secret. His father was rather conservative; he came from a family of religious enthusiasts. In his eyes, his youngest son was a disappointment regardless. Cassie was a dreamer while his father was a realist. Being gay was not really a plus factor.

“Yes, I have a boyfriend. His name is Dean.”

“Tell me about him,” Amelia said curiously.

“Well,” Cas started, a dreamy expression on his face.

Gabriel rolled his eyes.

“We’re going to prom together,” Cas ended.

“Awww,” Gabe cooed.

 

* * *

 

Dean had asked Cas on one of their non-dates. He had taken Cas to a store that sold musical instruments to adore guitars. He had planned to ask Cas for a while, but the topic had never arisen. Well, that was only partly true as Becky never really shut up about it, but Dean had been unsure if Cas wanted to go to prom. He had debated whether he should go to it at all. Sure, proms were kind of fun but… it got a bit old. He hated the fancy dressing, the stupid music and the annoying teachers. But this was senior prom and now he had Cas and…

“Hey, um, Cas?” he had asked over the aisle.

“Hem?” Cas made, looking up.

“You, er,” Dean stammered, cursing himself.

They were together, there was no reason to be shy!

“You wanna go to prom with me?”

“Yeah, sure,” Cas had said, smiling.

“Cool,” Dean had replied, a wide grin on his face.

 

That had been two weeks ago and now the two of them were at Twin Pines Mall to find Cas what Castiel’s mom called _appropriate_ clothing.

“Try this one,” the elderly saleswoman said, handing Cas a jacket in a very dark shade of blue.

He put it on and looked at himself in the mirror. He turned around to Dean, wanting to know his opinion. Dean was a useless consultant. He was just staring up at his boyfriend in awe, no matter what he was wearing. He smiled and nodded, just as he had at the five jackets before.

“I don’t know, love,” the saleswoman said, “Maybe a teensy bit too big.”

“Well, I might still be growing…” Cas said.

“Don’t you dare!” Dean warned him, “One giant in the family is enough!”

Cas looked down at him. _One giant in the family is enough._ Dean considered him family. He felt moved. He looked at his boyfriend, smiling. Dean averted his eyes, blushing slightly. Cas wanted to hug him right there, assuring him he felt the same.

 

A short time later they had found a suit that both Cas and the saleswoman could agree on.

Dean cleared his throat.

“You wanna wear a tie?” he asked.

Cas was hesitant. The last time he had worn a tie it had nearly strangled him. He looked at the stand with ties in various colors. An Egyptian blue one caught his eye. He held it up.

“Would you tie it for me?” he asked Dean.

Dean nodded and set to work on it. The saleswoman had found a new costumer and they had a moment to themselves. Cas observed Dean’s concentrated expression. When he had finally finished the knot, he looked up. There was something in his eyes; the way he looked upon Cas was different. They were warm and soft.

“I think I might love you,” he confessed.

“I think I might love you, too,” Cas answered as he embraced him.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it. Hope you had a nice time reading. If so, send me some love and leave a review :) You're super-awesome if you made it all the way down here.


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